UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT  LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 

,    attie   K  Merrill 


HESPER: 

AN    AMERICAN     DRAMA. 


BY   THE   SAME   AUTHOR. 


THE  CONFESSIONS  OF  HERMES,  AND  OTHER  POEMS. 
By  PAUL  HERMES.  Bound  in  vellum  doth,  gilt  top,  pp.  153. 
Price,  $1.25. 

FOR  SALE  BY  CHARLES  W.  SEVER, 

53iu&crsttg  33oofesto«, 

Cambridge,  Mass. 


HESPER: 


AN  AMERICAN  DRAMA. 


PA- 


WILLIAM    ROSCOE   THAYER, 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  CONFESSIONS  OF  HERMES,  AND  OTHER  POEMS.' 


CAMBRIDGE : 
CHARLES     W.     SEVER, 

Bookstore. 
1888. 


Copyright,  1888, 
BY  WILLIAM  R.  THAYER. 


Hntocrsttg 
JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE. 


PS 


TO  PROFESSOR 
CHARLES   ELIOT   NORTON, 

DEDICATE    THIS    SLIGHT    TOKEN    OF    ADMIRATION, 
GRATITUDE,    AND    FRIENDSHIP. 


213704 


INTRODUCTION. 


'"THHE  following  Drama  is  an  excursion  into  a  field 
-*•  which  has  been  as  yet  but  rarely  trodden  by 
American  poets,  —  the  field,  that  is,  of  experience 
almost  contemporary.  The  Master  of  American  fic- 
tion has  told  us  how  much  more  easily  he  moved 
among  scenes  long  past,  and  the  romantic  haunts 
of  Italy,  than  among  the  glaring,  obtrusive  realities 
of  his  own  age  and  country.  Time  and  distance 
doubtless  shed  a  pleasing  glamour  around  persons 
and  events ;  familiarity  too  often  breeds  contempt : 
yet,  certainly,  the  poet  should  discern  and  strive  to 
express  whatsoever  is  beautiful  or  heroic  or  tragic  in 
the  present.  The  moral  qualities  of  our  human 
nature,  its  emotions  and  passions,  be  they  good  or 
evil,  vary  little  in  substance  from  epoch  to  epoch, 
although  the  acts  by  which  they  are  made  manifest 
may  differ  as  widely  as  fashions  in  garments  differ. 
Incidents  are  inferior  in  importance  to  character. 
To  find  ourselves  at  conflict  with  our  surroundings ; 


Viii  INTRODUCTION. 

to  cherish  and  pursue  our  ideals,  despite  outward 
obstacles  and  defeat,  —  there  lie  the  real  tragedy,  the 
true  heroism,  of  life.  And  few  periods,  it  seems  to 
me,  have  been  richer  than  our  own  in  these  contrasts : 
for  we  live  in  an  era  when  traditional  creeds  have 
ceased  to  satisfy  many  serious  minds  (and  that  surely 
implies  a  spiritual  drama  most  awful  and  most  in- 
tense) ;  when  armies  of  brave  men  have  died  on  the 
field  of  battle,  and  as  many  more  have  led  noble, 
disinterested  lives,  in  behalf  of  an  idea;  and  when 
we  have  come  to  apprehend  —  dimly,  it  is  true  — 
that  we  are  members,  not  of  a  detached  community 
or  an  isolated  nation,  but  of  humanity  itself,  and 
that  this  kinship  lays  upon  us  the  responsibility  of 
farther-reaching  duties,  and  admonishes  us  to  nobler 
endeavors.  Should  any  reader  of  this  Drama  dis- 
cover in  it  a  faithful  portrayal  of  the  action  of  some 
of  these  mighty  influences  upon  characters  drawn 
from  contemporary  life,  my  purpose  in  publishing 
"Hesper"  will  be  attained.  But  though  I  fail  in 
this,  I  shall  hold  unshaken  the  belief  that  other 
men,  richer  in  imagination  and  more  skilful  in  ex- 
pression, will  turn  to  our  nineteenth -century  condi- 
tions for  the  elements  of  great  and  abiding  poetry. 

W.  R.  T. 
CAMBRIDGE,  MASS., 

October  29, 1888. 


Out  of  my  hands  went  slipping,  slipping, 
Threads  of  mystery,  skein  on  skein,  — 
Threads  entangled  and  diverse-tinted, 
Gorgeous  with  joy  or  gloomy  with  pain; 
Some  seemed  clews  of  a  hope  immortal, 
Some  seemed  fibres  of  hearts  that  grieve : 
"  Human  Passion  hath  spun  these  for  thee," 
Whispered  a  spirit;  "  wind  them, 


CHARACTERS   OF  THE  DRAMA. 


RALPH  HESPER A  Northerner. 

BLACKMAR His  Uncle. 

DARNEL Btackmar's  Friend. 

EDWARD  ROMAINE Brother  of  Constance. 

BLAKE A  Lieutenant. 

CONSTANCE  ROMAINE  .  .  .  .  A  Virginian. 
MRS.  HESPER Ralph's  Mother. 

Officers,  a  Surgeon,  etc. 

THE  DRAMA  OPENS  ABOUT  1860,  AND  CLOSES  DURING  THE 
WAR  OK  THE  REBELLION. 


H  E  S  P  E  R. 


SCENE  I. 

HESPER  (alone). 

Ye  mighty  Dead,  my  masters  and  my  friends, 
Who  urge  my  soul  with  purposes  sublime, 
And  show  me  patterns  ample  for  the  gods, 
Shall  I  blame  you  that  in  this  actual  world 
I  find  not  gods,  but  pygmies  ?    Was  I  duped, 
Believing  your  magnificent  report, 
To  look  for  great  companions  like  yourselves? 
If  you  lived  now  to  breathe  this  barren  air, 
Made  murky  by  the  sordid  smoke  of  trade, 
And  staled  by  prayers  of  slowly  withering  creeds, 
AVould  your  hearts  beat  as  bravely  ?    Would  your  hopes 
Remember  still  to  soar  ?    Would  you  still  match 
With  equal  deeds  your  fearless  aspirations  ? 

Alas  !  to  wake  upon  a  wearied  world, 
Where  mortals  plod  the  present  listlessly, 
And  turn  regretful  glances  towards  the  past  ! 
Alas  !  insatiate  yesterdays  that  stript 
The  fairest  fruits  and  blossoms  from  the  earth, 
And  left  to-day  a  beggar  !     Egotists 


U  HESPER.  [ACT  I. 

Who  throw  your  shadows  'twixt  the  suu  and  us, 

And  sing  your  paeans  to  a  heartful  joy 

We  crave  but  cannot  feel,  why,  why  torment 

By  praises  of  the  rapture  Beauty  lit 

In  you,  when  Earth  was  young?    Young?     Can  it  be 

Mankind's  career  is  but  a  larger  print 

Of  every  several  man?     From  infancy 

To  witless  age,  does  Fate  condemn  our  race 

To  unavailing  and  perpetual  change  ? 

Then  Rome  and  Athens  and  Jerusalem 

Were  but  as  moods  and  registers  of  life, 

Which  played  at  conquests,  arts,  religions,  States, 

As  school-boys  at  their  games.     These  now  are  toys 

That  more  amuse  us  not ;  and  what  we  call, 

In  our  delusion,  progress,  is  but  growth 

From  green  to  ripe,  from  ripe  to  sad  decay. 

In  vain  we  walk  the  chilly  Autumn  through 
To  seek  the  budding  promises  of  Spring, 
Or  Summer's  lush  fulfilment ;  landscape,  air, 
Th'  infrequent  birds,  and  something  in  our  hearts, 
Foretell  that  Winter  's  nearing  with  its  shroud. 
We  are  the  children  of  Time's  waning  year, 
And,  thus  begotten  of  a  hoary  race, 
Are  old  in  youth,  while  e'en  the  old,  who  lived 
When  Man  exulted  in  his  glorious  spring, 
Were  younger  than  our  young.     But  may  not  we 
Content  us  with  our  season,  like  the  flowers 
That  turn  their  faces  latest  to  the  sun, 
Or  like  those  brutish  men  whom  satisfy 
The  scant  and  icy  stipend  of  the  North  ? 

Ah,  no ! 
October's  gentian  never  dreamed  of  May, 


SCENE  I.J  HESPER.  15 

Nor  Esquimaux  of  Italy's  delight, 
Whilst  us  the  vision  of  Lost  Youth  pursues, 
The  consciousness  of  Beauty  unbeheld, 
The  pang  of  irrecoverable  Joy  ! 

My  masters  !  I  believe  that  you  saw  these 
As  large-eyed  stars  which  spangle  summer  nights, 
But  which,  receding  through  unfathomed  dark, 
Have  sped  beyond  our  ken.     Ye  deemed  them  fixed, 
Eternal  poles  by  which  all  men  might  steer ; 
But  we  have  searched  the  heavens  where  you  bid, 
And  see  no  glimmer  of  your  lustrous  guides,  — 
Darkness  has  palled  them.     Peradventure,  now 
They  shine  upon  you  in  some  world  remote, 
And  ages  hence,  when  they  have  lighted  all 
The  denizens  of  all  the  orbs  of  heaven, 
They  will  return  on  their  celestial  round, 
And  re-illumine  Earth.     Youth,  then,  and  Hope, 
Awaking,  shall  forget  the  hideous  dreams 
That  frightened  intervening  sleep,  and  Earth 
Shall  be  again  the  pleasant  theatre 
Whereon  each  mortal  plays  a  manly  part, 
Cheered  by  the  presence  of  approving  gods, 
And  not  this  dungeon  where  poor  slaves  await 
Their  call  to  combat  with  Fate's  monstrous  beasts. 

But  must  we,  meanwhile,  grope  in  darkness  here? 
Must  we  for  comfort  —  if  a  soul-suspense 
Can  feel  the  steadying  touch  of  comfort  —  take 
Those  chronicles  of  light  revealed  to  you, 
And  nurse  the  doubtful  hope  —  more  wish  than  hope  — 
That  those  benignant  stars,  your  joyous  guides, 
May  shine  on  us  hereafter?     Even  now 
One  voice  I  heard  above  the  time's  turmoil, 


16  HESPER.  [ACT  I. 

That  spake  your  language,  clear  and  unclefiled. 
Him,  like  a  pilgrim  from  the  sands  of  Doubt, 
I  sought  among  his  sturdy,  tranquil  pines. 
His  presence  was  a  live  benevolence, 
His  smile  philosophy,  his  manners  peace  ; 
And  who  beheld  his  eyes,  serene  and  deep, 
Must  wonder  if  their  radiance  was  shed 
From  inner  fountains  of  exhaustless  light, 
Or  if,  whate'er  he  saw,  he  saw  divine. 
To  him  I  was  a  child  that  weeping  brings 
Its  troubles  to  its  mother.     Silently 
He  heard  my  woes  ;  but  when  I  thought  to  hear 
The  one  great  word  that  should  have  set  me  free, 
He  answered  :  "  Not  from  others  is  thy  help  : 
Rely  upon  thyself ;  be  good,  and  trust." 
Saddened  I  went,  like  one  who  homeward  fared 
From  Delphi,  with  his  former  pack  of  doubts 
Made  heavier  by  th'  ambiguous  oracle. 

My  heart,  my  heart,  how  oft  I  question  thee  ! 
How  oft  thou  whisperest  this  same  behest : 
"  Mark  with  what  gorgeous  curtains  day  conceals 
The  nothingness  of  night,  that  thou  mayst  weave 
As  fair  a  pattern  of  heroic  deeds 
Upon  the  black  of  Death  !  "    Oh !  may  I  blow 
A  Roland  blast,  to  flood  this  grim  defile 
Till  echoes  pour  beyond  it,  and  announce 
To  farthest  and  ignoble  men  that  here 
One  lowliest  of  the  Paladins  has  fallen, 
But  fallen  unsubdued ! 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER.  17 


SCENE  II.  —  A  Room.     BLACKMAR  and  MRS.  HESPER. 

BLACKMAR. 

So  Ralph  still  holds  his  supercilious  mood, 

And  grandly  dubs  the  world  a  dunghill !     Lord, 

It  is  prepost'rous  how  these  youngsters  rant ! 

Yet  I  'd  not  have  them  lessen  by  a  hair 

Their  self-complacency,  their  proud  contempt, 

Their  thousand  schemes  for  bending  crooked  straight, 

And  gluing  goose-quill  wings  on  all  our  backs  ! 

Dear,  silly,  generous  boys  !     We  should  laugh  less 

If  you  got  common-sense  and  beards  together. 

And,  after  all,  there  's  no  great  harm  —  indeed, 

I  like  the  smack  of  talent  —  if  this  mood 

Lasts  not  too  long.     But  Ralph  is  now  a  man, 

And  should  behave  like  men.     Society 

Has  claims  upon  us  all ;  it  offers  him 

Advantages  he  were  a  fool  to  spurn. 


MRS.  HESPER. 

I  do  not  grieve  because  he  shuns  the  world, 

But  that  he  seems  unhappy.     If  his  course 

Brought  him  contentment,  I  should  be  content ; 

But  since  he  suffers,  it  cannot  be  right, 

And  I  beseech  of  your  experience 

A  remedy.     You  men  are  more  expert, 

And  wiser,  —  see  what 's  best,  though  far  ahead,  — 

Whereas  our  doting  mothers'  eyes  are  blurred 

By  near  solicitude. 


18  HESPER.  [ACT  I. 

BLACKMAR. 

True,  sister,  true : 

Yet 't  is  not  strange  that  mothers  should  be  fond. 
\  You  judge  your  children  by  your  hopes  ;  we  men 
Judge  each  man  by  his  merits,  trade  in  cash,  — 
Not  promises  to  pay,  —  and  square  accounts. 
Your  Ralph,  you  know,  I  've  cherished  as  a  son, 
And  though  I  sometimes  feared  his  training  were 
A  trifle  tender,  shielded  from  all  knocks 
That  help  to  mould  a  man  — 


MRS.  HESPER. 

You  would  not  bid 
A  mother  step  indifferently  aside 
Whilst  troubles  strike  her  child?    Too  soon,  alas, 
The  blows  must  fall  she  cannot  take  for  him  ! 


BLACKMAR. 

No,  no,  you  acted  right,  as  Nature  led. 

I  might,  perhaps,  if  I  had  had  a  son, 

Have  tried  the  sterner  method  ;  tossed  him  in 

And  watched  him  learn  to  swim  ;  encouraged  him 

To  frolic  with  his  fellows  ;  see  the  world, 

And  so  learn  how  to  use  it  for  himself. 

But  Ralph's  unspoiled :  that  proves  his  tissue  sound, 

And  argues  well  for  his  success  hereafter, 

If  we  can  cure  him  of  perversity. 

His  father,  you  recall,  had  not  outgrown 

Vagaries  when  he  died ;  but  he  was  shrewd, 

And  even  when  his  fancies  walked  the  clouds, 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER.  19 

He  firmly  trod  the  earth.     Send  Ralph  to  me  ; 

I  '11  show  him  common-sense,  and,  once  convinced, 

We  '11  make  a  man  of  him. 


MRS.  HESPER. 

He  's  manly  now  ; 

I  pray  you  make  him  happy.     But  take  care 
To  treat  him  very  gently.     He  is  one 
To  coax,  and  not  upbraid.     His  pride  will  rise 
A  tower  against  attack,  but  ope  the  gate 
To  welcome  friendly  comers. 

BLACKMAR. 

Trust  to  me. 

I  have,  I  think,  some  knowledge  of  the  world  — 
Know  when  to  smooth  and  when  to  rouse,  — in  fine, 
The  art  of  arts,  the  art  of  ruling  men. 

[Exit  MRS.  HESPER. 

0  widows'  darlings,  ever  at  extremes ! 

Some  take  the  bit  in  mouth  and  headlong  drive, 
With  cards  and  wine  and  women,  to  the  devil ; 
Some  ride  their  silly  hobbies  of  conceit, 
And  think  their  wooden  toy  a  Pegasus  : 
Headstrong  and  useless  both.     Ah,  here  he  is. 

[Enter  RALPH. 
Well,  nephew,  what  good  news  about  yourself  ? 

HESPER. 

1  daily  breathe  my  thousand  quarts  of  air ; 

I  eat,  and  drink,  and  sleep,  and  sometimes  —  think. 


20  HESPER.  [Acr  I. 

BLACKMAR. 

I  thought  you  were  above  us  common  folk, 
And  had  a  lordlier  habit,  for  we  all 
Do  that. 


Not  all,  by  quail  and  terrapin  ! 
I  have  seen  some  from  thinking  so  averse, 
They  worked  their  gullets  that  their  brains  might  rest. 

BLACKMAR. 

Still  cynical !     The  tune  of  callow  youth 
And  dissipated  age.     Come,  Ralph,  't  is  time 
To  take  life  as  you  find  it. 


So  I  do. 

I  find  it  heartless,  vapid,  and  corrupt ; 
Men  are  all  Esaus,  and  I  tell  them  so. 
Find  me  but  one  who  has  a  high  intent,  — 
Dares  speak  the  truth  whatever  ears  may  hear, 
Dares  act  regardless  of  the  plea  of  self, 
Through  all  obstructions  sees  his  purpose  clear, 
And  he  shall  be  my  friend. 

BLACKMAR. 

Do  you  suppose 

That  I  —  or  any  man  —  am  satisfied  ? 
That  if  we  might  create  the  world  anew 
We  would  not  shape  it  closer  to  our  tastes  ? 
Your  dreamers  prate  as  if  they  only  saw 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER.  21 

What  's  patent  to  us  all.     They  scold  and  sigh, 

And  neither  have  their  dreams,  nor  yet  enjoy 

The  casual  good  around  them.     Where  's  their  gain  ? 

I  make  the  most  of  life.     If  there  is  bad, 

Well,  I  am  not  to  blame.     Do  many  suffer? 

'T  was  by  no  wish  of  mine,  and  blameless  I 

Accept  my  dole  of  pleasure.     Confess  that  I 

Am  more  philosopher  than  most  who  wear 

That  name. 


In  truth  you  are  !     You  dignify 
A  venerable  school,  at  least  as  old 
As  that  profound  and  most  unselfish  sage, 
Semiramis.     Eat,  drink,  be  merry  ;  for 
To-morrow  you  shall  die.     Most  wise,  most  wise  ! 

BLACKMAR. 

You  sneer  — 

HESPER. 

Nay,  uncle,  this  is  admiration. 

BLACKMAR. 

But  sneers  are  sterile.     Look  the  other  way  : 
Suppose  we  reckon  your  advantages, 
Ere  we  sum  up  your  fancied  wants.     First,  then, 
Good  family,  position  well  assured  — 

HESPER. 

What  profits  that  in  free  America  ? 


22  HESPER.  [Acr  I. 

BLACKMAR. 

Your  father  came  of  very  well-bred  stock, 
The  Blackmars  date  from  — 

HESPER. 

Adam !     Wonderful ! 

When  shall  we  stop  this  talk  of  pedigrees  ? 
Let  German  princelings  sprung  from  feudal  thieves, 
Or  British  dukes  from  Stuarts'  mistresses, 
Brag  of  their  ancestors,  and  shame  themselves 
Thereby.     The  long-kept  secret 's  out  at  last,  — 
A  chimpanzee  was  father  of  us  all. 

BLACKMAR. 

I  half  believe  it,  for  at  every  turn 

I  run  on  creatures  on  whose  face  is  stamped, 

Beyond  dispute,  their  apish  parentage. 

Still,  blood  does  count,  no  less  in  man  than  horse  ; 

Were  this  not  true,  all  progress  at  a  stand, 

Each  generation  must  begin  afresh. 

You  have  this  treasure,  though  you  prize  it  not. 

Next,  wealth  is  yours  — 

HESPER. 

Too  much  !     If  I  were  poor 
I  might  forget  myself,  compelled  to  work, 
If  any  trade  were  honest. 

BLACKMAR. 

That's  your  ail? 
The  cures  are  many.     First,  I  will  prescribe 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER.  23 

The  farmer's  diet :  Rise  at  break  of  day, 

Sweat  on  till  dusk,  raise  hay  and  corn  and  hens, 

Tend  crops  and  cattle,  and  at  night  snore  loud, 

Or  dream  your  squashes  took  first  premium 

And  all  your  calves  were  heifers.     Brows 

Hardened  and  tanned  by  sunshine  and  by  storm 

Are  never  wrinkled  by  religious  doubts. 

I  paint  a  pretty  idyl  for  you,  like 

Your  rhymesters'  sketch.     Hail !  nephew  Cory  don  ! 

I  '11  buy  your  lettuces  and  early  peas, 

And  you  shall  sometimes  bring  your  oaten  stop 

And  pipe  for  us,  and  sing  a  madrigal. 


HESPER. 
I  will  do  that  —  when  you  shall  wed  Bo-peep. 

BLACKMAR. 

Well,  if  this  shirt-sleeve  drudging  likes  you  not, 

Choose  a  polite  profession.     Doctors  thrive 

Upon  mankind's  diseases.     There  's  the  law, 

A  necessary  evil,  sure  to  last 

As  long  as  folly.     Honor  clings  to  both, 

Preferment  too,  and  wealth.     Admit  that  shams 

Flourish  in  both  :  still,  doctors  do  much  good, 

Relieving  pain  ;  and  are  not  barristers 

True  peacemakers  ?    Or,  there  's  the  ministry  — 


Pray,  can  you  tell  a  church  that 's  orthodox, 
Unless  you  see  the  steeple  ?    I  doubt  it. 


24  HESPER,  [Acr  I. 

BLACKMAR. 

Oh,  for  myself,  I  have  my  private  views  ; 

I  rent  a  pew,  but  seldom  sit  in  it ; 

But  still  1  recognize  the  need  of  preaching. 

The  lower  classes  must  be  held  in  check 

By  these  religious  terrors  ;  Eomish  priests 

Are  but  police  in  other  uniforms. 

Or  say  they  cheer,  by  hopes  of  paradise, 

Poor  devils  struggling  with  a  cheerless  lot,  — 

Would  you  begrudge  them  that?    I  never  would. 

And  if  the  rich  assert  their  privilege 

Of  seeming  pious  one  day  out  of  seven, 

Why,  let  them  have  their  million-dollar  church, 

Their  operatic  choir  and  pulpiteer, 

And  eat  their  Sunday  roast,  full  confident 

That  God  and  they  are  greater  for  their  pomp. 

Who  knows  but  that  a  few  get  good  from  it? 

If  only  one,  I  call  it  still  a  gain. 


HESPER. 

Your  tolerance  is  most  commendable  ; 

But  'twould  have  kept  all  martyrs  from  their  crown. 

BLACKMAR. 

Or  you  might  teach  :  what  worthier  employ 
Than  to  decant  old  knowledge  in  young  minds  ? 


HESPER. 
Our  knowledge  is  our  sorrow. 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER.  25 

BLACKMAR. 

That  depends 

Upon  its  quality.     Our  schools  should  teach 
The  practical,  which  helps  in  earning  bread, 
Not  fill  young  heads  with  speculative  froth 
And  idle  poets'  whims.     I  half  suspect 
That  even  you,  despite  your  common-sense, 
Have  been  beguiled  by  so  capricious  stuff. 
I  've  seen  a  mountebank's  apprentice  try 
To  dance  upon  a  floor  bestrewn  with  eggs  ; 
And  so  our  versifiers  pick  their  way, 
Odd  and  ungainly,  just  as  if  they  found 
No  inch  to  tread  unheld  by  others'  thoughts  ; 
Or  else  they  boldly  poach  on  old  preserves, 
And  cook  you  such  a  salmi  of  conceits, 
And  rondeaux,  catches,  ballades,  villanelles, 
In  their  thin  sauce,  you  're  glad  to  dine  off  prose. 

HESPER. 

You  criticise  so  pat  these  modern  wits 
One  might  assume  you  read  them. 

BLACKMAR. 

Ralph,  a  man, 

To  pass  as  cultured,  skims  in  many  pans, 
And  knows  the  cream  from  curds  ;  it 's  a  disgrace 
When  those  who  rank  as  learned  hem  and  haw, 
Like  dolts,  with  no  opinion  to  express. 
But  poems,  pictures,  and  philosophies 
Resemble  ornaments  that  women  wear  : 
Mere  luxuries  if  you  have  time  and  means 


26  HESPER.  [ACT  I. 

To  fritter  on  them,  but  superfluous 
Till  then,  and  even  then  but  transient  toys. 
I  've  only  met  one  poet  on  the  street, 
And  he  was  there  to  borrow.     Do  not  take 
Their  myths  and  fairy  tales  in  earnest.     Bah  ! 
We  have  an  English  sportsman  at  the  club, 
Who  has  explored  all  Greece,  climbed  Helicon, 
Olympus,  and  the  rest,  —  a  sharp-eyed  man, 
And  yet  he  saw  nor  god  nor  demigod, 
Nor  dancing  faun,  nor  covert  dryades, 
Only  dull  peasants  in  then-  fleece  capotes, 
And  very  little  game. 

HESPER. 

Indeed  ?     I  've  heard 
The  Muses  are  a  bashful  brood,  and  fly 
At  sight  of  gun. 

BLACKMAR. 

Let  the  old  fables  lie  : 

The  dead  past  had  its  day ;  we  now  have  ours. 
In  this  new  country  we  require  new  views. 
This  is  the  golden  age  of  progress  !     Now 
Inventions,  factories,  and  industries 
Bring  comforts  and  prosperity  to  all. 

HESPER. 

Shades  of  dead  gods  and  flint-hewn  fetishes, 
Behold  our  new  idolatry ! 
We  make  our  lifeless,  ponderous  machines, 
Oil  their  steel  joints,  blow  in  a  breath  of  steam, 
And  worship  our  creation  !     Fools  !     Bow  down 


SCENE  II.]   •  HESPER.  27 

In  adoration  of  the  human  hand 

Of  which  these  are  the  proxies.     Class  me  still 

Apollo's  devotee.     Our  trains  are  swift ; 

But  does  not  Shakespeare,  does  not  Washington, 

Doomed  to  the  jolting  slowness  of  a  coach, 

Still  travel  foremost  through  posterity  ? 

BLACKMAR. 

Forever  Washington !     Your  frigid  George, 
If  truth  be  told,  was  but  like  other  men, 
Not  erring  less  than  we,  but  more  discreet. 
I  've  heard  stray  whispers  of  his  quiet  sport ; 
And  as  a  captain,  he  secured  the  wreath 
Deserved  in  part  by  many.     Life  is  short, 
Our  recollection  careless  ;  therefore  we 
Roughly  denote  a  thousand  facts  by  one, 
And  one  man  looms  as  symbol  for  an  age. 
But,  thanks  to  common-sense,  I  'm  critical, 
And,  unbefogged  by  hero- worshippers, 
Assign  to  each  exact,  impartial  due. 

HESPER. 

There  is  a  virtue  rarer  far  than  yours,  — 
The  virtue  that  discerns  nobility, 
And  reverences  greatness.     Critics  ever 
Suspect  the  higher  motives  of  the  great 
And  hearken  to  the  lower.     Criticism 
Is  thus  the  measure  of  the  critic's  self, 
Not  of  his  subject.     We  Americans 
Deem  that  we  prove  our  cleverness,  and  prove 
Our  specious  doctrine  of  equality, 
By  doubting  those  above  us,  dragging  them 


28  HESPER.  [ACT  I. 

Down  to  the  splash  and  riot  of  the  mob. 
Democracy  should  raise  the  rabble  up 
Till  all  shall  walk  the  level  of  the  best. 


BLACKMAR. 

I  have  no  fondness  for  the  masses  ;  still, 
I  make  allowance  for  our  country's  youth. 

HESPER. 

Our  youth !  the  trite  and  false  excuse  !     We  date 
From  Runny mede,  and  all  the  Past  is  ours 
To  counsel  and  instruct.     Nations  ere  this 
Have  in  the  compass  of  a  single  age 
Wrought  deeds  that  shine  forever.     Not  to  learn 
Their  novel  engines  and  their  tricks  of  trade 
We  seek  them,  but  to  know  their  wisdom,  art, 
And  those  best  beacons  to  our  own  success, 
The  great  achievements  of  superior  men. 
Judoea,  Athens,  do  our  thinking  still ; 
And  were  all  Britain  rotting  in  her  grave, 
Shakespeare  has  cut  an  epitaph  to  make 
Her  fame  immortal. 

BLACKMAR. 

Ralph,  you  're  eloquent, 
And  might  turn  politician.     Grant  all  this, 
A  living  vice  may  be  of  more  avail 
Than  a  dead  virtue.     For  example,  see 
Those  modern  Argonauts  who  steer  their  course 
For  Californian  gold,  —  a  cut-throat  crew, 
Which,  notwithstanding,  will  hew  out  a  home 
For  decent  men  in  future.     But  we  range 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER.  29 

Beyond  my  first  intent.     Let  us  suppose 

That,  having  jilted  your  inheritance, 

You  follow  your  caprice  and  go  to  work. 

Well,  after  twenty  years,  or  even  ten, 

You  might,  with  luck,  be  comfortably  rich ; 

What  then  ?    The  present  problem  brings  you  to  the 

wall, 

And  you  must  then,  where  you  should  now,  begin. 
See  life,  see  men  and  women,  know  your  chance  ; 
A  little  folly,  not  indulged  too  far, 
I  don't  forbid,  —  it  serves  to  teach  a  man 
To  prize  reality,  it  gives  him  ease. 
If  you  will  scowl  and  grumble  in  your  tub, 
How  fatuous  your  vaunt  of  knowing  life  ! 
Ere  you  condemn,  consent  at  least  to  try. 
Your  duty  to  your  mother  you  forget ; 
Your  conduct  grieves  her ;  but  I  cannot  think 
Her  cares  and  wishes  touch  you  not. 
Be  reasonable  ;  none  at  twenty-five 
Can  map  out  such  a  certain  course  of  life 
As  that  on  wise  old  custom's  chart.     Submit. 
Trust  my  maturer  judgment  and  good- will 
To  lead  to  happiness.     Enough  ;  it 's  late  ; 
There  's  whist  to-night,  and  I  must  go.     Good-by. 
Ponder  my  counsel  well,  and  follow  it. 

[Exit  BLACKMAR. 


O  mentor  most  considerate,  most  sage, 
Who  pick  your  syllables  to  suit  my  youth, 
Accept  my  gratitude  !     I  must  obey, 
Or  wear  the  dunce's-cap.     How  simple,  too  :  — 


30  HESPER.  [ACT  I. 

You  need  but  know  the  world,  see  men  and  women, 

In  order  to  be  happy !     He  condones 

A  sip  of  folly ;  and  he  frowns  not  on 

The  wanton  escapades  and  tosspot  wastes 

Which  in  the  vulgar  pass  for  common  vice, 

But  in  the  rich  display  uncommon  breeding. 

Be  drunk  with  rum,  and  you  're  a  boorish  sot ; 

Champagne  still  leaves  its  drunkards  gentlemen  ! 

A  most  discreet  distinction.     On  the  day 

When  masks  shall  fall,  and  every  soul  appear 

In  aspect  naked  and  original, 

How  many  wives  shall  shudder  at  the  lusts 

They  have  espoused,  mistaking  them  for  men ! 

How  many  husbands,  undeceived,  shall  loathe 

The  vanities  they  led  away  from  church, 

In  fashion's  peacock  plumage !     Deacons,  priests, 

All  shorn  of  sanctimonious  disguise, 

Unreverend,  ungodly  shall  appear. 

Then  virtue  shall  be  known,  too  long  despised, 

Because  of  modest  garb  and  lowly  mien  ; 

And  many  a  heart  now  hid  in  loneliness 

Shall  shed  as  pure  and  sympathetic  light 

As  did  the  Holy  Grail.     Break  soon,  oh  day 

Of  rare  surprises  and  grotesque  events  ! 

Good  uncle,  then,  when  truth  has  pulled  from  thee 

Thy  metaphysic  cloak,  I  may  not  know 

Thy  remnant  self.     Ye  gracious  heavens,  forbid  ! 

4   Oh  contumely  and  caprice  of  fate, 
Why  thrust  us  unconsulted  in  a  sphere 
Abhorrent  to  our  natures?    Why,  by  ties  of  kin, 
Withhold  us  when  in  other  spheres  we  seek 

|    Our  proper  mates  ?     Sarcastic  and  absurd 

Lx — i 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER.  31 

. 
The  lot  that  drew  for  Hesper  such  an  uncle  ! 

I  owe  my  mother  gratitude  and  love  — 
Nay,  owe  it  not,  for  love  is  not  a  debt ; 
And  were  she  not  my  mother,  I  should  love 
Her  womanly  benignance  :  yet,  alas  ! 
Affection  oft  is  baffled  in  its  wish 
Because  it  blindly  would  enforce  that  wish 
^  On  the  beloved  ;  but  wise-eyed  Sympathy, 
/   Which  doth  divine  a  comrade's  highest  aim, 
•    And  makes  herself  the  ladder  which  he  mounts, 
She  is  the  chosen  deputy  of  Love. 
Dear  mother,  whilst  you  dream  that  in  the  world's 
Insipid,  unsubstantial  show,  content 
Awaits  me  if  I  will,  I  scan  a  world 
Your  gentle  eyes  have  never  seen :  I  ache 
With  doubts  your  faith  prevents  from  harming  you. 
Alas  !  that  man  should  wear  an  aspen  heart, 
To  veer  and  flutter  Life  and  Death  between ! 
Wishing  to  live,  if  Life  be  rid  of  cares, 
Wishing  to  die,  if  Death  reward  with  rest, 
Singly  content  with  neither  Death  nor  Life, 
Yet  asking  for  the  sovereign  gift  of  each, 
As  one  might  beg  from  haughty  day  the  sun, 
And  from  the  night  the  moon,  for  special  light 
And  simultaneous  beauty !     Nay, 
We  must  explore  the  outmost  avenues 
And  ransack  every  path  of  being,  ere 
We  sneak  through  the  coward's  postern.     I  have  seen 
A  gentle-hearted  actor  play  the  rage 
Of  Desdemona's  too-suspicious  lord, 
Until  in  thrice  a  thousand  bosoms  quaked 
A  single  consternation.     Could  he  feign 


32  HESPER.  [ACT  I. 

A  fury  so  repugnant  to  his  soul, 
Distil  from  mildness  so  innative  wrath, 
And  for  an  evening  metamorphose  self 
Into  a  creature  most  unlike  himself, 
Yet  cannot  I,  through  the  brief  play  of  life, 
Be  just  myself,  and  laugh  at  circumstance  ? 
Let  Fate  rain  uncles  and  malignant  checks, 
I  swear  to  be  the  being  I  prefer. 


SCENE  I.—  A  Walk. 


Motionless  in  the  desert  broods  the  Sphinx  : 

Before  her  file  perpetual  caravans 

Across  the  wavy  sands,  beyond  her  ken  ; 

She  sees,  anon,  fantastical  mirage 

Paint  its  seductive  brilliance  on  the  bare 

And  tremulous  horizon  ;  still  she  broods, 

In  changeless  isolation,  desert-hemmed. 

Are  all  the  forms  and  persons  which  compose 

This  strange  and  motley  pageantry  of  life, 

Streaming  confused  before  me,  without  pause,  — 

Are  these  but  phantasms  and  incarnate  dreams 

Of  outward  Nature,  which  elude  my  touch ; 

Or  are  they  emanations  of  my  mind, 

Parts  of  myself,  and  symbols  of  my  soul? 

Is  each  man  centre  of  a  universe, 

Embodied  kismet,  or  a  little  reed 

Whereon  Fate  plays  a  temporary  tune, 

And  then  throws  by  unheeded  ?     Speculation 

Conducts  us  to  the  adamantine  wall 

We  may  not  penetrate,  we  cannot  scale. 

Hark  !  an  old  fiddle  scrapes  !     My  uncle  comes. 

[Enter  BLACKMAR  and  DARNEL. 


34  HESPER.  [ACT  II. 

BLACKMAK. 

Ah,  Ralph,  well  met !     We  just  now  spoke  of  you. 
You  know  my  friend  ? 

DAKNEL. 

Yes  ;  long  have  Ralph  and  I 
Enjoyed  acquaintance  —  friendship,  I  may  say. 

HESPER  (aside). 

Indeed !  how  jauntily  some  lips  pronounce 
The  sacred  name  of  friend !  —  You  spoke  of  me  ? 
No  slander  or  disparagement  ? 

DARNEL. 

Oh,  no ! 

I  'd  be  the  last  to  hear  a  friend  abused  ; 
And  then  your  uncle  sets  his  praise  so  high 
That  the  incredulous,  who  know  you  not, 
"Would  swear  he  flatters  you ;  but  I  '11  go  bail 
No  flattery  could  overtake  the  truth. 

HESPER. 

How  rare  to  be  the  idol  of  our  friends  1 
Since  I  am  certain  of  your  sweet  esteem, 
Let 's  forego  present  incense. 

DARNEL. 

Modest  Ralph ! 

BLACKMAR. 

Darnel  was  swelling  with  his  favorite  theme, 
His  Southern  goddess,  who  has  lately  come ; 


SCENE  I.]  HESPER.  35 

And  he  insists  we  take  a  peep  at  her. 
Most  lovers  love  exclusively ;  but  he, 
Trebly  assured  of  his  lady's  heart, 
Invites  the  world  to  marvel  at  his  prize. 


DARNEL. 

True  love  can't  harbor  kill-joy  jealousy. 
Perchance  my  sin  is  pride  ;  for  I  delight 
That  each  who  sees  my  beauty  must  adore, 
And  that  adoring  he  will  curse  his  doom  — 
There  is  no  second  Constance  for  himself. 
I  know  my  fortune  by  his  storm  of  sighs. 
Let  us  go  now. 

BLACKMAR. 

We  '11  watch  Ealph's  fresher  eyes 
Open  in  wonder.     You  and  I  long  since 
First  felt  the  deep,  resistless  spells  of  women  ; 
He  has  but  read  or  dreamed  of  them,  and  thinks 
We  overrate  their  magic. 


Constance,  Ralph, 

Will  shame  your  scepticism.     Though  he  were  flint, 
Who  looks  on  her  must  perish  from  despair. 

HESPER  (aside). 

Should  I  e'er  love,  may  I  be  innocent 
Of  the  unleashed,  bombastic  lover's  tongue, 
And  keep  exalted  silence.  —  I  am  ready 
To  face  this  charming  peril. 


36  HESPER.  [ACT  II. 


Then,  away ! 

But,  friends,  I  beg  you  will  not  yet  disclose 
What  I  have  told  in  strictest  confidence 
Of  our  engagement,  though  yourselves  may  read 
In  Constance's  mien  the  summing  of  my  joy. 

[Exeunt. 

SCENE  II.  —  A  Drawing-room.     CONSTANCE  ROMAINE,  at  a 
piano,  sings: 

Whenever  gentle  thoughts  would  nest, 
They  fly  to  my  Beloved's  breast; 
Soothed  on  her  heart  they  sleep  and  wake, 
Like  swans  upon  a  placid  lake. 
Wlien  lovely  wishes  are  astir, 
For  our  delight,  they  visit  her; 
They  shine  their  meaning  in  her  eyes, 
And  in  her  smiles  paint  paradise. 

I  watch  her  through  the  orchard  pass, 
And  through  the  waving  upland  grass,  — 
The  very  clover  loves  her  foot, 
And  not  a  bird  to  her  is  mute  I 
Now  she  has  gone  behind  the  hill, 
And  yet,  methinks,  I  see  her  still, 
Upon  her  lovely  mission  bent,  — 
To  bring  the  sick  encouragement. 

Now  she  has  reached  the  cottage-door, 
And  now  has  crossed  the  threshold  o'er : 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER.  37 

What  sudden  radiancies  illume 
The  dying  farmer's  darkened  room  ! 
What  music  lulls  his  drowsy  ears 
As  her  consoling  voice  he  hears  ! 
He  murmurs:  "  Wife,  at  last  is  come 
The  Angel  who  will  lead  me  home." 

A  touching  song  —  if  it  were  only  true  ! 
I  wonder  whether  poets  really  burn 
With  the  same  passion  they  inspire  ;  or  if, 
Like  those  who  tell  ghost-stories,  they  enjoy 
The  telling,  though  they  credit  not  the  tale  ? 
Yet,  ere  they  win  the  power  to  sway  our  hearts, 
They  must  have  entered  there,  and  felt  themselves 
Our  secretest  emotions.     Ah,  but  how? 

I/Sings. 
Love  made  a  trusty  heart 

Only  for  thee: 
Try  not  to  pick  its  lock  — 
Love  has  the  key. 

Love,  love,  love  !    Oldest  theme,  and  still  the  sweetest, 

Let  worldlings  slur  it  how  they  will.     Let  those 

Whose  hearts  are  jaded,  or  too  miserly 

To  entertain  this  god,  decry  his  worth ; 

Where  he  is  guest,  is  all  the  soul  desires,  — 

More  than  all  treasures  of  the  world  besides. 

See  what  a  subtle  conjurer  he  is  ! 

Thinking  on  him,  though  I  have  never  loved, 

At  his  mere  name,  my  thoughts  take  on  the  tint 

And  glow  of  passion,  —  feel  prophetic  joy ! 

[Enter  a  servant. 

213704 


38  HESPER.  [ACT  II. 

SERVANT. 

Three  gentlemen  are  waiting. 

CONSTANCE  (reading  from  their  cards) . 
Darnel,  Blackmar,  Hesper,  —  ask  them  in. 

[Exit  servant. 

I  'm  piqued  to  see  the  feather  of  the  friends 
Who  flock  with  Darnel,  the  importunate. 
[Enter  DARNEL,  BLACKMAR,  and  HESPER.     After  greet- 
ing and  introduction,  CONSTANCE  continues. 
You 're  welcome,  gentlemen.     (To  BLACKMAR.)     I've 

sometimes  heard 
Of  you,  sir,  from  our  common  friend. 

DARNEL. 

Indeed 

You  have :  and  I  have  talked  so  oft  of  you 
To  Ralph  and  Blackmar,  that  their  whetted  thirst 
Could  be  restrained  no  longer,  and  their  eyes 
Must  drink  their  fill  of  beauty ;  so  we  came. 

CONSTANCE. 

I  think  we  ought  to  chide,  not  thank,  the  friends 
Who  load  us  with  embarrassment  of  praise. 

HESPER  (aside) . 
By  all  my  dreams,  but  she  is  beautiful ! 

BLACKMAR. 

Believe  me,  Darnel  utters  not  a  word 
I  will  not  ratify. 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER.  39 

CONSTANCE  (to  HESPER) . 

And  are  not  you 
Adept  in  flattery? 

DARNEL. 

Nay,  ask  him  not. 

He  's  one  of  those  deluded  youths  who  play 
The  dismal  r61e  of  Timon,  sweeping  men 
And  women  under  his  promiscuous  ban. 
The  part  ill  suits  him,  as  we  can  assert 
Who  know  his  character  from  bark  to  core. 

CONSTANCE  (to  HESPER) . 

Ah,  ha  !     I  hope  no  woman's  faithlessness 
Has  seemed  to  prop  your  scorn.     But  even  then, 
'T  were  hardly  just  to  wreak  upon  our  sex 
Revenge  for  one  delinquent.     Be  gallant ! 


These  gentlemen,  as  I  suspect,  do  jest : 
I  mind  it  not,  although  't  is  inhumane 
That  oft  the  crippled  children  of  their  wit 
Should  limp  away,  unnoticed  by  a  smile  — 
For  only  boys,  or  rough  and  cruel  men 
Laugh  at  deformities.     I  have  no  feud 
With  women,  nor  am  I  pope  to  ban  them. 


You  'd  be  no  pope  if  you  banned  petticoats ! 
But,  notwithstanding,  shunning  them  till  now, 
You  've  tacitly  confessed  your  disesteem. 


40  HESPER.  [ACT  II. 

CONSTANCE. 

Still,  there  is  hope  of  pardon  and  amends, 
Since  ignorance,  not  malice,  was  the  cause. 

HESPER. 

I  have  mistaken,  as  it  seems  to  me, 

The  object  of  our  visit,  which,  I  thought, 

Was  centred  in  our  hostess  rather  than 

In  my  poor  self.     To  draw  and  tease  my  views, 

By  bantering  thrusts,  is  but  a  sorry  sport, 

Unfit  to  entertain  her ;  farther,  sirs, 

If  I  had  need  of  a  confessor's  ear, 

I  'd  choose,  perhaps,  nor  you,  nor  you  to  shrive  me  ; 

And  't  is  allowed  the  meanest  penitent 

To  tell  his  sins  in  private.     Miss  Romaine 

Can  scarcely  wish  to  coax  a  stranger's  folly 

From  his  own  lips.     It 's  most  presumptuous 

To  think  that  such  a  hermit-thrush  as  I 

Should  rouse  her  interest ;  but  if  I  do, 

My  uncle  here,  or  Darnel,  when  I  'm  gone, 

Can  tell  more  of  me  than  I  know  myself. 

BLACKMAK. 

Fie,  wayward  Ralph ! 

CONSTANCE. 

No,  cunning,  sir,  instead ! 
He  's  heard  we  women  can't  sit  patiently 
Before  a  secret — leastwise,  one  forbidden  : 
I  contradict  the  hearsay  by  my  silence. 
So,  Bluebeard,  keep  your  tantalizing  key, 
I  will  not  pry  among  your  skeletons. 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER.  41 

But  come!  the  topic  darkens.     (To  DARNEL.)     Will 

not  you, 
Best-known  of  all,  suggest  a  merrier? 

HESPER  (aside). 
Another  disillusion  ?    Heart,  be  brave  ! 

DARNEL. 

You  cannot  doubt  what  favor  I  prefer,  — 
To  hear  you  sing. 

CONSTANCE. 

Yes,  if  your  friends  agree. 

BLACKMAR. 

I  beg  you  '11  be  so  kind. 

HESPER. 

And  I. 

CONSTANCE. 

Then  hear 
This  little  song,  "The  Violin's  Complaint." 

Honest  Stradivari  made  me; 
With  the  gift  of  love  he  blest  me; 
Once  —  delight !  a  master  played  me. 
Love  awoke  when  he  caressed  me. 

Oh  the  deep,  ecstatic  burning  I 
Oh  the  secrets  low  and  tender! 
Oh  the  rapture  and  the  yearning, 
At  our  love's  complete  surrender  ! 


42  HESPER.  [ACT  II. 

Heartless  men,  so  long  to  hide  me 
'Mong  the  costly  toys  you  cherish ! 
I'm,  a  soul :  again  confide  me 
To  a  lover,  ere  I  perish  ! 

BLACKMAR. 

Delightful ! 

DARNEL. 

Charming !  how  the  melody 
Explains  the  words  !     Quite  realistic  ! 

BLACKMAR. 

Yes! 

CONSTANCE. 

And  were  you  pleased  ? 


Exceedingly,  I  thank  you. 
Pray  take  my  silence  as  the  fittest  proof 
Of  my  enjoyment.     I  would  not  be  the  first 
To  toss  a  trite,  unmeaning  epithet 
Into  the  tranquil  pool  of  ecstasy 
Music  has  flooded  with  her  streams  divine. 

CONSTANCE. 

Then  you  are  fond  of  music  ? 


-K, 


HESPER. 

"Fond"?    That  word 
V>o  dwarfish  to  express  my  vast  delight. 
When  music  plays,  there  is  no  tiniest  chord 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER.  43 

In  all  my  frame  but  trembles  to  respond  : 

She  gives  a  tongue  to  each  emotion,  blends 

My  soul  and  body  in  harmonious  speech. 

Methinks  the  common  talk  of  man  with  man 

Would  be  attuned  to  such  a  unison, 

If  each  sincerely  spoke  his  highest  thought. 

We  pitch  our  voices  down  to  custom's  key, 

And  jangling  insincerity  o'erdins 

The  sweet  and  natural  music  of  our  souls. 

Have  you,  at  daybreak,  never  with  amaze 

Beheld  the  sun  —  that  arch-magician  —  touch 

With  his  translucent  wand  earth,  sea,  and  sky, 

Till  from  the  raven  coverlid  of  night, 

All  things  awake  to  Beauty,  — till  no  cloud, 

Or  peak,  or  blossom,  leaf  or  airy  mote, 

Or  curving  cheek  of  momentary  wave, 

Or  any  living  creature,  but  exults 

In  its  full  meed  of  color  and  of  light,  — 

Light,  which  is  friendship  ;  Color,  which  is  love? 

So  Music  brims  with  her  pervasive  tide 

All  labyrinths  and  crannies  of  the  soul, 

Till  all  would  sing  from  overflow  of  joy ! 

CONST  AKCE. 

Music  you  praise  so  nobly,  you  must  be 
Yourself  a  skilled  musician. 


Ah,  if  those 

Who  deeply  feel  could  all  they  feel  express, 
The  sacred  circle  of  the  master  Few 
Would  gird  a  multitude ! 


44  HESPER.  [ACT  II. 

CONSTANCE. 

I  know  that  truth ; 

And  having  not  this  boon  of  utterance, 
I  make  me  glad  revering  that  of  others. 
'T  is  the  eternal  privilege  of  art, 
By  sharing  to  increase  :  he  who  gets  wealth, 
In  land  or  money,  may  in  those  deprive 
His  fellows.     Art  alone  can  hoard  by  giving. 
Enrich  us  by  a  song. 

HESPER. 

What  shall  it  be? 

CONSTANCE. 

You  choose  —  the  better  way  to  match  your  mood. 

HESPER. 

Good  !     Here  's  an  air  I  heard  in  Venice  once. 

[Sings. 

4 '  Roam  with  me  in  my  garden  fair  I 

Its  beauties  and  wonders  thou  slialt  share, 

If  thou  'It  roam  with  me. 
There  's  not  a  flower  that  blossoms  there, 
But  storeth  honey  and  sweetens  the  air,  — 
TJiere  }s  not  a  butterfly,  bird,  or  tree, 

But  has  joy  for  thee. 

"  Many  enchanted  paths  we  'tt  rove, 
O'er  hill  and  dale,  through  valley  and  grove, 
If  thou  'It  roam  with  me. 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER.  45 

It  matters  not  whither  our  footsteps  wend, 
From  pleasure  to  pleasure  the  paths  all  tend, 
For  in  fairyland  there  is  never  an  end 
Of  felicity. 

"  Perchance  in  a  shadowy  copse  we  'II  find 
The  circle  of  Poets  round  Homer  blind; 

Perchance  we  'II  surprise, 
In  some  deep  meadow  of  asphodel, 
Beautiful  Proserpine;  or  dwell 
A  whole  year  through  in  the  blissful  spell 

Of  Apollo's  eyes. 

vi    "  We  will  wander  down  to  the  sounding  shore, 
>J  And  tli'  horizon's  fugitive  charm  explore,  „ 

In  our  stanch,  swift  boat; 
Or  we  'II  watch  each  royal  wavelet  rise 
For  its  crown  of  sunbeams  ere  it  dies; 
Or  the  ship-like  clouds  in  the  western  skies, 
As  we  idly  float. 

' '  Night  shall  furnish  a  mossy  bed, 
And  down  through  the  foliage  overhead 

The  stars  will  peep; 
And  we  will  whisper,  with  many  a  kiss, 
Of  all  our  passion,  of  all  our  bliss, 
Till  we  glide  together  o'er  Dreams'  abyss, 

On  the  wings  of  Sleep. 

"  Oh,  life  is  long  and  our  pulses  strong, 
And  days  are  flooded  with  mirth  and  song 
And  a  joy  divine! 


46  HESPER.  [ACT  II, 

Come,  Heart' s-delight !  let  us  haste,  let  us  roam 
From  joy  to  joy  in  this  boundless  home ! 
For  all  the  beautiful  world  is  mine, 
And  I —  am  thine  I " 

So  the  Stripling  sang  with  the  glow  of  youth, 
But  Sorrow  approached  in  the  garb  of  Truth, 

With  the  sober  years; 
And  Hope  she  crooned  in  a  plaintive  key; 
And  Joy  sped,  saying,  "I'm  not  for  thee, 
Let  Fortitude  now  thy  pilot  be, 

Till  thou  pass  these  fears." 

"  Oh,  deceitful  days  and  hurrying  world, 
Must  I  ever  from  change  to  change  be  hurled  !  " 

In  despair,  Man  cried. 
"  Yesterday's  charms  no  more  allure,  — 
What  passion  to-day  will  to-morrow  endure  ? 
If  nothing  can  stay,  if  nothing  is  sure, 

Oh,  will  Love  abide?" 

BLACKMAB. 

Bravo !  you  never  sang  so  well  before. 


Yes,  capital.     A  love-sick  troubadour 
Would  relish  that  romance. 

CONSTANCE. 

It 's  sweet,  but  sad. 

Why  is  't  that  melancholy  music  charms 
Even  the  gay ;  whereas  when  we  behold 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER.  47 

A  grieving  friend,  we  grieve  from  sympathy, 

Without  the  sooth  of  pleasurable  pain  ? 

I  sometimes  dread  lest  the  too  frequent  stroke 

Of  dulcet  notes  should  mesmerize  my  soul 

To  sensuous  lethargy.     I  seldom  hear 

The  quick  alarum  and  sonorous  peal 

That  match  my  dream's  ambition.     I  dream  deeds ! 

You  men  I  envy  most  your  free  career 

Of  action  in  the  State.     How  glorious 

To  be  an  orator,  to  see  the  throng, 

A  mighty  forest,  bending  to  your  voice ! 

To  see  your  policy,  like  vernal  sap, 

Quicken  each  branch,  and  bourgeon  in  each  twig ! 

To  hear  the  thunders  of  convinced  applause  — 

Ah,  that  were  music  !     And  to  know  your  foes 

Must  perish  or  surrender  —  that  were  fame ! 

I  wonder  that  there  breathes  a  single  man 

Unkindled  by  th'  Olympian  draught  of  power ! 

Had  women  but  your  chance ! 


BLACKMAK. 

You  Southerners 

Are  born  diplomatists  :  here  in  the  North 
Our  better  folk  despise  the  politicians, 
Who  howl  their  burning  questions,  issues,  frauds,  — 
Devices  all  to  keep  themselves  in  place. 
The  marvel  is  our  people  can  adopt 
Their  quarrels.     Gulls  and  gullers  make  the  world. 
These  knaves,  who  stab  each  other  in  their  rant, 
For  partisan  effect,  carouse  and  wink 
In  private,  like  attorneys  out  of  court. 


48  HESPER.  [Acr  II. 

CONSTANCE. 

You  speak  of  knaves ;  of  statesmen,  I. 

BLACKMAK. 

Two  names, 

But  not  two  persons  :  you  are  more  polite, 
I  more  exact  in  naming,  —  that  is  all. 

DARNEL  (to  CONSTANCE)  . 
But  take  them  even  at  your  estimate, 
You  scant  your  sex's  power.     Grant  that  men 
Rule  politics  —  pray  tell  me  who  rule  men  ? 
Why,  women ;  and  their  influence  compels 
No  less,  though  it  be  subtile  and  remote. 
I  know  two  eyes  which,  were  I  senator, 
Would  govern  all  my  votes. 

CONSTANCE. 

Your  common  ruse 

To  flatter  us  to  silence  !     But  we  know 
That  in  your  hearts  you  scorn  our  intellects, 
As  if  they  were  emotional  machines, 
Wound  up  by  prejudice  or  sentiment. 

DARNEL. 

May  chivalry  forbid  such  calumny ! 
We  value  you,  we  worship,  we  adore ; 
And  if  our  worship  top  not  your  deserts, 
'T  is  that  our  powers  fail  us,  being  men 
Confined  in  natures  earthlier  than  yours. 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER. 

HESPER  (aside). 
Most  gaudy  words  !  but  will  they  dazzle  her  ? 

CONSTANCE. 

Do  you  believe  this  ? 

DARNEL. 

Can  you  doubt  my  faith  ? 

CONSTANCE. 

Then  you  're  a  man  who  will  not  hesitate 
To  prove  your  noble  precepts,  and  you  shall. 

HESPER  (aside). 
Oh  woman's  eyes  !  beguiled  by  painted  gems ! 

DARNEL. 

You  '11  find  me  always  ready  for  the  test : 
Let  it  be  soon,  if  you  consult  my  zeal. 

BLACKMAR. 

And  I  '11  be  umpire.     Darnel  shall  subscribe 

A  plum  for  Woman's  Rights  ;  then,  let  me  see,  — 

Then  he  shall  take  the  stump,  and  Miss  Romaine 

Shall  judge  how  ably  he  presents  her  cause. 

May  you  both  see  a  president  in  skirts 

And  congressmen  in  crinoline,  before  you  die. 

CONSTANCE. 

How  obstinately  men  refuse  to  yield 
To  women  deep  convictions  !     We  must  be 
4 


49 


50  HESPER.  [ACT  II. 

The  playthings  you  would  have  us,  or  you  mock. 
But,  for  the  nonce,  be  politics  tabooed. 
Through  the  long  summer  which  before  us  lies 
I  hope  to  greet  you  often,  hope  to  show 
My  reasons  are  not  whims  ;  and  you  shall  state 
Your  most  profound  objections.     We  will  chat 
From  theme  to  theme,  in  friendship's  easy  wont ; 
And  when  discussion  waxes  sultry,  you  (to  HESPER) 
Shall  send  us  showers  of  refreshing  song. 


BLACKMAR. 

A  siren  plan ! 

DARNEL. 

Enticing  as  its  source  ! 

BLACKMAR. 

And  for  to-day,  if  't  please  you,  we  propose 
To  sail.     My  yacht  awaits  us  ;  brisk  's  the  wind. 
Not  boisterous  ;  all  urges  your  consent. 
Darnel  assured  us  you  've  a  sailor's  heart. 


CONSTANCE. 

I  have,  indeed.     There  's  blood  within  my  veins 
Drops  from  a  viking  ancestor,  perchance,  — 
"Which  dances  to  the  music  of  the  sea, 
And  stagnates  when  ashore.     I  '11  gladly  go 
In  an  hour. 


Good! 


SCENE  III.]  HESPER.  51 

BLACKMAR. 

At  three  we  will  return. 

Till  then,  farewell.     The  yacht  shall  leap  with  joy 
To  bear  a  viking's  daughter. 

DARNEL. 

True !     Good-by. 

CONSTANCE. 

The  French  is  better  ;  era  revoir  till  three. 

[BLACKMAR,  DARNEL,  and  HESPER  take  leave. 
A  strange  consorting,  —  eagle,  buzzard,  jay  ! 


SCENE  III. — A  Walk.    BLACKMAR  and  DARNEL. 

BLACKMAR. 

Gad,  Darnel,  you  have  trapped  a  prize  ! 
But  you  must  bag  her  patiently,  else  she 
Will  break  away.     The  time  to  tire  and  tame 
These  haughty  beasties  is  before  you  wed : 
Once  tamed,  they  're  docile  always. 

DARNEL. 

Never  fear ! 
I  '11  have  one  master  in  my  house  —  myself. 

BLACKMAR. 

How  will  Camille,  who  gambolled  off  the  boards, 
To  share  your  golden  favor,  like  your  wife  ? 
Those  wenches,  like  disease,  are  quicker  caught 
Than  rid  of. 


52  HESPER.  [ACT  II. 


Money  buys  the  night-bird's  song, 
Money  shall  buy  her  silence.     If  she  scream, 
The  law  shall  hush  her  in  a  padded  cage. 
I  '11  see  to  it,  when  I  lead  home  my  bride, 
No  cast-off  jade,  with  whining  brat  in  arms, 
Greet  us  upon  the  door-step. 

[HESPER  appears  in  the  background;  seeing  them,  he  is 
about  to  retire,  but  is  observed  by  BLACKMAR. 

BLACKMAR. 

Ho,  Ralph  !     Here  ! 

HESPER. 

What  do  you  want? 

BLACKMAR. 

An  answer  to  a  riddle. 


Then  seek  a  parson  or  an  editor,  — 
They  only  are  omniscient. 

BLACKMAR. 

No  !  but  stay ; 

My  riddle  's  easy :  have  you  lately  seen 
Our  fair  Virginian? 

HESPER  (approaching). 

On  Saturday 
I  met  her  on  the  beach.     Not  since,  I  think. 


SCENE  III.]  HESPER.  53 

BLACKMAR. 

Jove  !  what  a  captivating  witch  it  is  ! 

Were  I  your  age,  or  were  I  not  content 

With  the  snug  freedom  of  a  bachelor, 

I  swear  I  'd  join  the  chase,  — make  Darnel  spurt 

To  beat  me. 

DARNEL. 

She  is  richly  worth  a  run. 
Lucky  for  me,  I  have  a  winning  lead, 
And  dare  to  smile  at  backward  rivals. 


BLACKMAR. 

Ealph, 

When  you  pick  out  a  wife,  make  this  your  rule  : 
A  woman  must  possess  three  requisites,  — 
Blood,  beauty,  wealth. 

DARNEL. 

And  most  imports  the  last. 
The  other  two  are  casual  ornaments 
Of  happy  wedlock  ;  but  a  golden  dower 
Compensates  men  who  blunder  in  their  choice. 
See  what  she  has  in  bank  before  you  woo, 
Then  be  a  leech  at  wooing  —  slights,  rebuffs, 
Of  no  avail  to  brush  the  zealot  off. 
There  never  lived  a  woman  but  succumbed 
To  unremitted  and  protesting  suit : 
If  not  their  heart,  their  pride  at  last  is  won. 

HESPER. 

By  Lucifer !  this  is  most  damnable  ! 


54  HESPER.  [Acr  II. 

BLACKMAR. 

Nay,  it  is  prudent.     Prudence  should  control 
Us  always,  and  in  marriage  most  of  all. 
"  Love  in  a  cottage  "  may  have  answered  once  ; 
But  cottages  are  turned  to  tenements, 
And  squalor  there,  and  poverty,  and  crime 
Leave  love  no  perch  to  coo  on.     Ne'ertheless, 
That  she  you  choose  be  rich,  need  not  abate 
Your  young  romantic  ardor. 

HESPER. 

I  despise 

Your  heresy  against  the  creed  of  love. 
I  '11  not  believe  that  you  yourselves  believe  it. 
Darnel,  confess,  my  uncle's  cynic  trick 
Maligns  himself  and  you.     No  criminal 
Would  publish  thus  his  baseness. 

DARNEL. 

Ralph,  you  're  young. 
In  time  you  '11  understand  and  imitate 
Maturer  men,  who  fortify  each  gap 
Against  the  storm  of  possible  mischance. 
To  dally  with,  one  woman  's  like  the  next, 
And  may  be  caught  without  a  wedding-ring ; 
But  say  you  're  surfeited,  as  must  occur, 
Pray  what  indemnity,  what  recompense, 
From  penniless  wife,  for  years  of  misery? 


Then  you  imply  that  were  not  Constance  rich 
You  would  not  wed  her  ? 


SCENE  III.]  HESPER.  55 


If  you  put  it  thus, 

Although  I  value  all  her  other  charms, 
I  '11  not  deny  what  any  man  must  praise 
As  rare  sagacity. 

HESPER. 

Then  I  declare 
You  are  a  mercenary  villain  ! 

DARNEL. 

God! 

You  beardless  prig  !  you  damned  cur !     You  dare 
Insult  me  ? 

HESPER. 

Yes.     It  needs  no  Hercules 
To  dare  expose  the  craven.     You  've  confessed 
You  plot  against  this  lady  for  her  wealth,  — 
To  pilfer  that  you  steal  into  her  heart, 
Just  as  a  burglar  steals  into  a  house 
To  rob  its  silver ;  honest  men  agree 
A  burglar  is  a  villain  and  a  sneak. 

DAENEL. 

By  heaven  and  hell !  you  shall  retract  your  lies ! 

BLACKMAR. 

Come,  come,  no  blows. 

HESPER. 

There  is  no  danger,  sir. 
These  sneaking  bipeds  have  not  so  much  pluck 


56  HESPER.  [Acr  II. 

As  e'en  a  trampled  viper.     As  for  threats, 

Who  was  e'er  harmed  by  cowards'  blank  discharge  ? 

Stuff  up  your  tender  ears  with  cotton,  sir, 

If  the  noise  disturbs  you. 


By  my  honor,  hound, 
You  shall  give  satisfaction  !     You  shall  fight ! 

HESPER. 

The  duel  is  an  antiquated  crime, 

Fit  for  a  strutting  Frenchman,  or  a  bully. 

Suppose  you  made  my  body  as  a  sieve, 

And  through  a  score  of  vents  my  soul  flew  out,  — 

Although  I  died,  you  still  would  live,  still  be 

A  villain. 

DARNEL. 

But  for  your  uncle,  now, 

Upon  this  spot  you  'd  pay  me.     Well  you  chose 
A  coward's  lurch  of  time.     But  never  fear, 
I  swear  my  vengeance  you  shall  not  escape. 

BLACKMAR. 

Hold,  Ralph !     This  goes  too  far.     I  '11  not  permit 
An  angry  nephew  to  abuse  my  friend. 
Quick,  I  command  you,  an  apology. 

HESPER. 

When  you  shall  prove  that  you  have  wronged  yourself 
In  calling  him  your  friend,  I  '11  recognize 
Your  right  to  order  me. 


SCENE  III.]  HESPER.  57 

BLACKMAR. 

Insult  me  too  ? 

The  fellow  's  crazed,  and  will  befoul  us  all 
With  his  promiscuous  frenzy.     I  '11  not  stay 
To  be  a  madman's  target.     When  he 's  sane 
He  shall  repent,  and  humbly  beg  our  pardon. 
Insult  me  !     Monstrous  !     Darnel,  leave  him  !     Come  ! 

DARNEL. 

Thank  Blackmar  that  I  leave  you  in  your  skin. 

Had  I  as  many  as  the  aloe's  tongues, 

They  all  should  hiss  a  curse.     You  '11  smart  for  this. 

BLACKMAR. 

Ungrateful  wretch ! 

[Exeunt  BLACKMAR  and  DARNEL. 


Go,  weasel-brood ! 

Scatter,  scatter !     I  have  you  on  the  run. 
I  scented  your  foul  purpose  from  afar,  — 
But  what  avails  me  this  discovery  ? 
For  knew  I  not  already  rogues  may  wear 
Starched  linen  and  a  gentleman's  repute  ? 
Oh,  the  sad,  shameful,  hypocritic  world ! 
I  see  a  rascal  snatch  a  stranger's  purse, 
I  apprehend  him,  and  prevent  the  theft : 
But  when  I  see  a  social  villain  trick 
A  woman  for  her  fortune,  I  must  lay 
My  finger  on  my  lip,  in  tacit,  base 
Inaction.     "  Let  those  whom  the  fraud  concerns, 
Defend  themselves  against  it,"  says  the  world. 


58  HESPER.  [ACT  IL 

Why  should  I  meddle  ?    What  is  she  to  me  ? 
Not  yet  a  friend  who  might  be  warned  by  friend ; 
Only  a  late  acquaintance,  who  excites 
A  tantalizing  pleasure,  bitter-sweet, 
Attractive  and  repellent.     When  I  think 
How  like  a  dove  she  emblems  gentleness, 
Lo  !  on  a  sudden  comes  the  magic  change 
Into  a  tigress,  haughty,  fearless,  strong,  — 
A  tawny,  agile  terror  to  her  foes, 
But  to  her  friends  a  puissant  sentinel ; 
And  whether  she  seem  tigress  or  show  dove, 
In  both  she  's  beautiful.     Does  she  love  him  ? 
How  tell  when  woman  loves?    Yet  plain  it  is, 
As  compliments  and  hints  corroborate, 
He  has  her  special  favor.     It  must  be 
That  if  she  loves,  she  loves  his  glamouring  mask, 
Or  an  unreal,  imaginary  Darnel 
Her  fancy  cheats  her  with.     Oh  the  blind  eyes 
And  wilful  trust  of  women !     Riddles  all ! 
Gods  will  not  save  a  victim  that  prefers 
Destruction  !     I  must  stand  aloof  and  watch, 
Until  the  opportune,  appointed  hour 
Compels  me  to  the  rescue.     Thus  we  wait, 
Like  helpless  eaglets,  for  the  fledge  of  fate. 

[Exit. 


SCENE  IV. — A  Cliff" overlooking  the  Sea.    HESPER  in  reverie. 

HESPER. 

artial  Nature  bids  her  seasons  forth 
Regardless  of  our  wishes.     Autumn  wake's  : 


SCENE  IV.]  HESPER.  59 

His  filmy-frosty  breathing  pales  the  view 

At  either  twilight,  though  there  's  summer  still 

I'  the  feel  of  noon.     What  flocks  of  orioles 

Or  strayed  Brazilian  birds  have  lately  spread 

Their  gorgeous  plumes  upon  our  foliage  ! 

What  vintagers  have  pressed  their  purplest  grapes 

Into  the  ocean,  till  it  seem  a  bowl 

Of  old  Falernian  !     These  shifting  scenes  — 

This  pageant-progress  of  the  nimble  months  — 

Divert  me  and  surprise  ;  but  more  attracts 

The  tragic-comic  intercourse  of  men 

In  life's  great  passion-play.     Perchance,  perchance, 

Out  of  the  throng,  in  tones  familiar, 

That  voice  will  hail  me  which  my  spirit  craves. 

The  landscape  and  the  ocean  —  e'en  the  stars  — 

Which  in  my  youth  I  fancied  would  reveal 

Their  secret  to  me  if  I  patiently 

Would  listen,  all  are  dumb.     To  human  ears 

A  human  voice  must  speak.  —  But  if  I  hark 

Unanswered,  if  this  world-old  spectacle 

Of  strife  unending,  niggardly  success, 

Elusive  happiness,  and  sure  demise, 

Should  weary  or  appall  me,  Nature,  still 

In  thee  shall  I  behold,  with  larger  awe, 

A  Power  perpetual,  an  Order  fixed, 

Which  ever  after  winter  brings  the  spring, 

Unmoved  'mid  change,  and  of  all  ages  keeps 

One  age  alone  —  imperishable  Youth. 

Lizards  that  bask  their  little  hour  away 

On  Thebes'  stupendous  mole,  then  gleaming  dart 

Into  oblivion,  are  not  more  dull 

Than  we  who  fret  our  brief  permitted  time 


60  HESPER.  [ACT  II. 

Among  these  portents  of  infinitude. 
Brief,  if  the  drama  close  abruptly  here  ! 
What  if  it  run  hereafter  ?    Who  would  raise 
So  glorious  and  permanent  a  stage 
For  players  merely  mortal  ?    These  are  flights 
Hope  only  dares  to  venture  ;  Reason  walks. 
Yet  when  o'erfreighted  by  the  sense  of  crime 
Or  suffering  immense  ;  or  when  perplexed 
By  the  imbrangled  wrongs  and  slurs  of  Fate ; 
Or  sick  at  heart  from  hopeless  solitude, 
Which  is  forever  haunted  by  the  form 
Of  one  we  love  who  never  can  be  ours,  — 
Then,  sadly  grateful,  we  reflect  that  Death, 
The  good  physician,  with  his  poppy  draught, 
Has  heard  our  cry,  is  on  his  way  to  heal. 
Courage  a  little  !  we  shall  slumber  soon. 


CONSTANCE  (appearing  on  a  ledge  above  HESPER)  . 
You,  too,  have  found  this  nook  of  reverie  ! 
Perhaps  you  scold  intruders,  for  of  late  — 
A  month  at  least  —  you  've  almost  shunned  my  house  ; 
And  when  by  chance  we  've  met,  you  've  curtly  bowed, 
Dropped  a  "  good-morning,"  and  passed  quickly  on. 
Shall  I  not  say  't  is  most  unchivalrous  ? 


HESPER. 

I  'm  one  reputed  most  unsocial,  and 
Deserve  my  reputation.     Lately,  too, 
A  mood  uncommon  and  tumultuous 
Has  urged  me  to  the  ocean,  where  I  find, 


SCENE  IV.]  HESPER.  61 

If  not  tranquillity,  a  vast  unrest, 
Variety,  and  fathomless  desire, 
Consorting  with  my  own. 


CONSTANCE. 

You  were  more  wise, 
Confiding  in  a  friend,  to  ease  your  grief. 

HESPEE. 

Had  I  a  comrade  who  could  reassure, 
I  'd  need  no  reassurance  ;  having  none, 
'T  is  better  to  be  silent  than  complain 
In  ears  unsympathetic. 

CONSTANCE. 

I  divine 

You  hide  a  deeper  reason.    You  believe 
We  're  all  unworthy  of  your  confidence : 
But  have  you  tried  us  all  ?    And  what  great  truth, 
Which  shrinks,  like  guilty  words,  from  tip  of  tongue, 
Have  you  to  tell  ?     Sometimes  the  stately-silent, 
Who  seem  like  oysters  mewing  priceless  pearls, 
Are  taciturn  from  very  lack  of  thought. 


Most  pleasant  scoffer ! 

CONSTANCE. 

Sir,  I  do  not  scoff. 
Oh  no !  we  women  are  inquisitive  — 
But  you  can't  know,  because  you  know  not  women. 


62  HESPER.  [ACT  II. 


You  wrong  me,  if  you  charge  my  ignorance 
To  sullenness.     I  've  studied  in  your  school, 
Have  conned  your  virtues  and  conflicting  flaws, 
Your  graces,  contradictions,  maddening  ways  — 
Bewitching  paradoxes  !  —  till  my  brain, 
Astonished,  could  no  more.     When  I,  amazed, 
Have  marvelled  that  such  attributes  as  make 
The  spotless  seraphim  the  joy  of  heaven, 
With  earth  could  be  compounded,  some  defect, 
Most  earthly,  has  redoubled  my  amazement. 
I  have  seen  favors  which  a  Percival, 
The  paragon  of  knights,  had  not  deserved, 
Bestowed  with  spendthrift  largess  on  a  boor. 


CONSTANCE. 

And  therefore  you  condemn  us  all,  retreat 

Into  your  selfish  and  superior  shell, 

To  pity  or  despise  us  !     Have  you  thought, 

We  women  are  but  half  the  world,  you  men 

The  other  half?     Be  just :  divide  the  blame  ; 

Nay,  more,  bear  some  of  ours,  because  our  state 

Is  chiefly  fixed  by  you.     You  have  assigned 

The  sphere  we  must  accept.     With  larger  scope, 

In  the  free  air,  what  might  we  not  aspire ! 

If  men  flew  skyward,  we  would  wing  with  them. 

You  like  to  hear  us  sing,  to  see  us  perch 

Upon  your  finger.     You  would  have  us  pure, 

That,  when  you  've  splashed  and  swum  to  weariness 

In  Folly's  pool,  we  may  wash  off  the  stains. 

Do  we  refuse  ?    Do  we  recriminate  ? 


SCENE  IV.]  HESPER. 

Suppose  we  beggar  artifice  to  please  — 
Do  you  not  strive  to  rule  ?    And  you  ignore 
That  courtesy  is  woman's  second  nature. 
Shall  I  insult  all  those  who  please  me  not  ?  — 
The  blemish  clings  to  me.     Take  any  case, 
And  strip  it  to  the  pith  :  say  I  resent, 
As  pique  might  urge,  your  testy  prejudice,  — 
Whom  should  I  punish  ?     Say  I  shut  my  door 
On  Darnel  and  all  insincerity  — 

HESPER. 

Do  you  not  love  him,  then? 

CONSTANCE. 

Love  Darnel  ?    Him  ? 
Oh  the  keen  vision  of  the  wary  blind ! 
I  answer  your  suspicion  with  a  laugh. 

HESPER  (aside). 

Dawn  hope,  and  pack  away  despair !  —  And  yet 
A  weightier  rumor  is  abroad,  —  it 's  said 
You  '11  shortly  marry  him. 

CONSTANCE. 

I  did  believe 

You  lived  above  the  scandalous  reports 
And  tattle  of  the  world.     Life  is  too  short 
To  waste  in  contradicting  random  lies  ; 
But  those  who  know  us,  surely  they  should  trust, 
Or  what  besteads  us  friendship  ?    Must  we  run 
To  every  friend,  at  any  hour,  and  say, 


64  HESPER.  [ACT  II. 

"  'T  is  gossiped  I  'm  a  thief  :  believe  it  not "  ? 
If  those  who  know  me  deem  that  I  could  wed 
A  man  whose  eyes  are  always  on  my  purse, 
I  pity  their  credulity.     Farewell ! 
Learn  women  better,  if  you  would  be  just. 
The  incoherent  murmurs  of  this  sea  — 
Monotonous  and  husky,  but  sincere  — 
Kebuke  your  cheap  suspicion.     List  to  them. 

[Exit  CONSTANCE. 

HESPER. 

Dupe,  dupe,  and  dormouse  !     Hoodwinked  by  my  fear, 

I  read  all  signs  to  justify  my  fear : 

Saw  dignity  in  the  false  shape  of  pride, 

Took  graciousness  for  love,  blurred  everything. 

Dolt !  get  thee  to  a  school :  the  censure  lies 

In  staying  foolish,  when  we  may  be  wise. 


SCENE   V.  —  A    Garden.      Behind ,   the  Cottage   occupied   by 
CONSTANCE.    Moonlight.     HESPER  and  CONSTANCE. 

HESPER. 

Say  but  once  more,  and  seal  it  with  a  kiss, 
/  love  thee  ! 

CONSTANCE. 

Hesper,  I  love  thee  — 


Oh  bliss ! 


SCENE  V.]  HESPER.  65 

CONSTANCE. 

I  am  forever  thine,  and  thou  art  mine,  — 
The  joy,  the  marvel  of  it ! 


Let  me  look 

Into  those  clear  true  eyes  again,  which  saw 
Some  merit  in  me,  through  the  worthless  mask 
That  hid  me  from  myself.     So  —  in  the  moonlight. 
Oh,  let  me  touch  those  lips,  whose  soft  /  love  tliee 
Redeems  my  soul !     Oh  happiness  beyond 
The  utmost  peep  of  fancy !     Now  the  world 
Grows  full,  and  sweet,  and  strong,  —  a  mighty  heart  1 
I  feel  the  pulses  of  all  virtue,  passion, 
And  all  divine  desires  throb  in  my  frame. 
There  is  no  mystery,  there  is  no  doubt ; 
Hope,  joy,  love,  God — I  clasp  thee  in  my  arms  ! 

CONSTANCE. 

How  wonderful,  my  Hesper,  is  the  peace 
Of  perfect  passion.     I  believe  the  stars, 
And  yonder  moon,  and  these  benignant  trees, 
And  the  faint  lullaby  of  ocean,  know 
Our  gladness,  and  rejoice. 

HESPER. 

And  I  believe 

There  are  some  spirits  so  serene  and  pure, 
That  on  this  actual  earth  they  live  in  heaven. 
How  thin  a  web,  by  my  perverseness  spun 
Across  the  entrance  of  thine  Eden,  Love, 
5 


66  HESPER.  [ACT  II. 

Curtained  my  path  to  thee  !     How  long  I  groped  ! 
"Woe  unto  me  if  I  had  groped  in  vain  ! 


CONSTANCE. 

Hush !  that  one  if  glides  like  a  serpent  here, 

Presaging  harm ;  for  doubt,  or  of  the  past 

Or  of  the  future,  harms  and  darkens  love. 

But,  Hesper,  in  the  union  of  two  souls 

There  is  no  chance.     Chance  rules,  perhaps,  events  ;  ^ 

But  love  [s  the  very  breath  and  essence  of 

The  soul,  beyond  the  scythe  of  circumstance. 

Chance  may  divide  two  natures  with  one  love, 

For  one  year  or  a  score,  but  though  apart 

He  drove  them  through  a  score  of  lives,  when  met 

They  would  commingle  with  sublime  delight  — 

As  we  do  now. 

HESPER. 

My  Wisdom  and  my  Joy, 

Speak  on !     Methinks  I  've  listened  to  thy  voice 
In  immemorial  lives.     Which  is  the  star 
Wherein  I  heard  thee  first?    What  date,  what  term, 
What  brief  eclipse  has  touched,  or  can,  our  passion  ? 
Not  first  to-night,  my  better  self,  my  soul, 
I  know  thee. 

[A  distant  church  clock  strikes. 


CONSTANCE. 

What !  do  clocks  still  slave  for  Time  ? 
'T  is  late,  to  loveless  watchers. 


SCENE  V.]  HESPER.  67 


Ah,  count  not ! 

To  think  of  Time,  so  soon  !     I  would  stay  here 
Forever,  with  thee  nigh,  and  reckon  not 
The  flight  of  seasons.     I  would  talk  of  love 
Till  Night,  entranced,  should  whisper  to  her  mate, 
And  Day  arose  to  wonder  at  our  joy, 
And  he,  bewildered,  summoned  Night  again  ! 
Time  I  'd  annul.  —  A  little,  little  while 
Bless  me  by  lingering.     We  've  not  yet  begun 
Our  mutual  story,  —  scarce  a  word 
Yet  uttered !     Stay,  until  I  better  know 
The  rapture  of  thy  hand  —  until  I  taste 
The  honey  of  thy  lips  —  caress  thy  cheeks, 
Thy  brow  —  and  fathom  those  celestial  depths 
Through  which  thy  soul  beholds  me  !     Grant  me  this. 

CONSTANCE  (starting). 
Hear'st  thou  no  noise  ? 

HESPER. 

I  hear  Love  speak. 

CONSTANCE. 

Nay,  look, 
There  grates  a  keel  upon  the  shingle ! 

HESPER. 

What, 

To  earth  again  ?    Has  Love  no  privilege  ? 
Whose  eyes,  save  those  of  angels,  may  presume 
To  peep  when  lovers  pledge  ?  —  A  skiff,  a  man,  — 


68  HESPER.  [ACT  II. 

A  thief,  to  judge  him  by  his  muffled  oar. 
I  '11  challenge  this  intruder. 

CONSTANCE. 

Love,  beware ! 

HESPER. 

Nay,  there  's  no  peril :  only,  go  thou  in. 
I  '11  catechise  this  pagan  who  has  dared 
Within  the  hallowed  precinct. 

CONSTANCE. 

Love,  good- night. 
To-morrow  thou  wilt  come  to  me  betimes  ? 

HESPER. 
Ay,  ere  the  earliest  sparrow  chirps  — 

CONSTANCE. 

Till  then, 
All  happiness  be  thine.     Good-night,  good-night ! 

HESPER. 

Oh,  bid  not  him  be  happy  who  must  trust 
His  jewel  to  the  hazard  of  the  dark. 
God  bless  thee,  Constance.     Speed  the  night  away ! 
[After  CONSTANCE  has  entered  her  cottage,  HESPER  goes 

towards  the  shore;  then  presently  returns. 
The  knave,  scarce  landed,  when  he  heard  my  steps, 
Leaped  to  his  boat  again,  and  spurted  off 
Like  a  scared  coot.     But  though  he  did  not  speak, 
Between  the  shadow  and  the  silver  moon, 


SCENE  V.]  HE S PER. 

I  knew  him,  Darnel.     What  an  abject  imp 

To  drag  us  down  from  Heaven !  —  Still  ?    Alone  ? 

Constance  has  gone,  and  it  is  dark  indeed, 

Except  that  here  in  memory  she  shines 

Auroral.     Eyes,  upon  that  image  dote  ! 

Not  Aphrodite,  nor  chaste  Artemis, 

Nor  Hebe  of  the  amaranthine  blush ; 

Not  Cleopatra,  whose  voluptuous  arms, 

Velvet  and  serpentine,  did  clip  and  thrall 

Th'  ambitious  pinions  of  imperial  pride  ; 

Nor  yet  that  later  Queen,  whose  fatal  grace 

Herself  and  all  her  lovers  rued,  —  not  these, 

Nor  any  other  f  air  of  large  report 

In  history  or  fable  (though  she  won 

Throughout  her  mortal  life  the  homage  due 

To  Beauty's  self  immortal),  but  must  pale 

Before  my  peerless  Love.     I  look  at  her, 

Till  sense  is  dazzled  by  superb  excess, 

And  would  avert  its  gaze,  yet  gazes  on 

In  helpless  ecstasy,  delicious  awe  ! 

And  then  her  large  and  radiant  eyes  appear 

Ideal  fountains,  crystalline,  wherein 

The  inmost  lustres  of  her  being  shine 

In  sequent  loveliness  ;  and  when  she  smiles, 

Behold  !  around  her  lips  imparadised, 

Virtues  benign  and  wishes  gently  strong, 

Sisters  to  Youth  eterne,  and  Joyousness  ; 

And  when  she  speaks,  I  hear  what  cadences 

I  fancied  sweeten  angels'  high  discourse, 

But  never  dared  to  hope  on  earth  to  hear. 

So  are  her  features  grown  ethereal 

And  so  sublimed,  that  motionless  I  gaze 


70  HESPER.  [ACT  II. 

In  lowly  adoration  of  her  soul. 

Those  elder  men  who  guessed  the  Old  "World  creeds 

Stablished  for  God  mere  man  presumed  colossal ; 

Now,  noble  minds  revolt  from  worshipping 

Revengeful  Allah,  and  Jehovah  wroth, 

And  Jove,  the  dissolute,  tyrannic  Jove. 

When  Force  was  monarch,  men-like  gods  sufficed ; 

When  Love  shall  reign,  God  shall  be  womanly,  — 

Pure,  merciful,  and  just,  loving  and  lovable. 

Already  dimly  we  surmise  the  form 

Of  that  ineffable  Apocalypse !  — 

Soft !     Constance's  window  is  ablaze  with  joy ! 


CONSTANCE  (appearing  at  an  upper  window) . 
Nearing  the  point,  I  just  discern  the  skiff. 
Untimely  and  unkind  to  break  upon  our  joy. 
No  lover  held  those  oars  :  some  lonely  wretch, 
Lonely  as  I  am,  Hesper  being  gone. 
Oh  Night,  but  now  the  very  choice  of  Love,  — 
Fragrant  and  still,  and  dusk  beneath  the  trees, 
For  passion's  whispers,  —  thou  art  no  more  fair ; 
Make  way  for  morning,  when  my  lover  comes  ! 
Ah,  Hesper,  is  it  thou  ? 


HESPER. 

Who  else  should  be 

The  guard  and  sentinel  at  Constance's  door? 
Here  would  I  dog  the  sluggish  march  of  Night, 
And  while  my  eyes  patrol  the  outposts  here, 
I  '11  picket  Fancy  nearer,  nearer  still 


SCENE  V.]  HESPER.  71 

CONSTANCE. 

But  the  intruder  ? 

HESPER. 

Gone,  — a  moonstruck  waif 
Who  fled  when  I  approached. 

CONSTANCE. 

Then  all  is  well. 

Once  more,  good-night !  I  pray  thee,  dearest,  rest. 
Stay  —  take  this  charm  to  lure  the  vagrant,  Sleep. 

HESPER. 

A  rose,  made  sweet  and  priceless  by  a  kiss  ! 

CONSTANCE. 

Alas  !  that  envious  Nature  should  impose 

These  intervals  on  love  !     Good-night !  good-night ! 

[Retires  from  the  balcony. 

HESPER. 

Dance  towards  the  morning,  Earth!     Sing,  sing,  my 

heart, 
To  waft  thy  mistress  slumberwards. 

[Sing*. 

Sleep,  I  covet  thy  delight, 

Oh,  to  have  thy  power  to-night! 

Smoothly  spread  my  Lady's  bed,  — 

Downy  pillows  for  her  head, 

And  let  violets  perfume 

Tlie  holy  stillness  of  her  room. 


72  HESPER.  [ACT  II. 

Gently,  gently  close  her  eyes,  — 
Pearly  lids  o'er  sapphire  skies,  — 
Gently  close,  until  repose 
Like  soft  music  through  her  flows; 
Mark  how  sweet  her  breathing  slips  — 
But  thou  may'st  not  kiss  her  lips  ! 

For  a  light,  the  dim  moonbeams ! 
And  thy  mate,  the  God  of  Dreams, 
Shall  array  a  pageant  gay 
As  her  Fancy  loves  by  day  ! 
Oh,  for  fairy's  eyes  to  see 
If  my  Lady  dreams  of  me. 

Her  light  is  out !     Oh,  would  that  I  might  melt 
My  passion  in  one  sweetest  note,  to  steal 
Through  her  delighted  ears,  and  on  her  heart 
Nestle  till  morning ! 


SCENE  I.  —  A  Public  Square.    HESPER  alone. 


Speed  on  !  speed  on  !  ye  lagging  days  and  weeks 

Which  clog  the  coming  of  that  happy  morn 

When  I  shall  wed.     Pert,  moody  April,  go 

And  beg  thy  beauteous  sister,  May,  to  haste. 

E'en  now  I  see  her  busy  in  her  dell, 

Where  Youth  holds  up  a  glass,  and  Graces  three 

Attire  their  lovely  sister,  and  bedeck 

Her  bridal-dress  with  blossoms  and  young  leaves, 

While  Joy  strays  in  a  meadow,  teaching  larks 

To  carol  her  a  welcome.     Haste,  oh  haste  ! 

The  spring  suffuses  Nature  with  new  hope, 

Which,  unconflned  by  ocean,  earth,  and  sky, 

O'erflows  to  human  souls.     My  Love  that  art, 

My  wife  that  art  to  be,  like  gods  we  '11  quaff 

This  rich  elixir,  till  the  very  gods 

Believe  we  're  deathless  too  !     Let  anxious  times 

Breed  doubt  in  whom  they  may.     Whilst  I  have  thee, 

What  fitful  omens  of  calamity, 

What  shudder  of  approaching  strife,  can  fright 

Hope  from  her  citadel,  our  hearts  ?     Let  those 

Who  called  the  fiends  of  discord  up  from  hell, 

Allay  them  and  dismiss.     We  '11  shine  aloof, 


74  HESPER.  [ACT  TIL 

Twin  stars  in  Love's  empyrean,  and  grieve 

That  brothers  use  the  argument  of  Cain. 

Hark  to  the  drums,  that  beat  out  hate's  tattoo  ! 

[Martial  music.  A  company  of  volunteers  marches 
into  the  square.  The  soldiers  are  escorted  by  their 
friends.  HESPEK  withdraws  to  one  side. 


OFFICER. 

Halt !  My  men,  we  are  ready  for  the  front.  The 
train  awaits  us  yonder.  If  you  wish  to  say  a  last  word 
to  your  friends,  do  so.  Let  your  parting  be  brief,  as 
befits  a  soldier ;  let  it  be  brave,  as  befits  men  engaged 
in  the  noblest  duty,  — the  defence  of  their  country  and 
their  home. 

\_TJie  men  break  ranks. 

A  MOTHER. 

Good-by,  my  son.  God  guard  you,  and  bring  you 
safely  back  to  me. 

A  SOLDIER. 

Good-by,  mother.  Don't  be  disheartened.  You  '11 
soon  hear  that  we  have  crushed  this  rebellion ;  and 
then  how  proud  you  will  be,  that  you  had  a  son  to 
help! 

MOTHER. 

Keep  the  little  book  I  gave  you.     Bless  you  ! 

ANOTHER  SOLDIER. 

No  tears,  Nell. 


SCENE  I.]  HESPER.  75 

A   YOUNG   WOMAN. 

But  if  you  should  be  wounded,  if  you  should  be  — 

SOLDIER. 

Never  fear !  There  's  not  much  danger,  after  all ; 
for  when  the  Southerners  see  we  are  in  earnest,  they  '11 
slink  away  without  fighting.  Be  cheerful,  Nell.  I  '11 
write  you  from  Washington,  and  tell  you  how  we  live 
in  camp.  In  a  few  months,  long  before  frost,  we  shall 
return ;  and  then,  sweetheart,  we  '11  marry.  Choose 
the  spot  that  pleases  you  best  to  build  our  cottage  on. 
A  year  from  now  we  shall  have  forgotten  this  trial, 
and  we  will  never  part  again.  Good-by,  good-by, 
Nell. 

YOUNG  WOMAN. 

Good-by.     Remember  me. 

A  WOMAN  (hurrying  in  excitedly) . 
My  boy !     I  want  my  boy  i 

A   SOLDIER. 

We  're  all  men  here.  If  he  has  n't  played  truant, 
look  for  your  boy  at  school. 

WOMAN. 

He  has  run  away  from  me.  He  must  not  go  to  the 
war. 

OFFICER. 

What  is  his  name? 


76  HESPER.  [ACT  III. 

WOMAN. 

Henry,  sir ;  Henry  Masters. 

OFFICER. 

There 's  no  such  name  on  the  roll. 

WOMAN. 
Yes,  there  he  is,  behind  those  drummers.    That 's  he. 

OFFICER. 
Come  here,  Stone. 

\_A  lad  reluctantly  comes  forward. 
You  enlisted  as  Charles  Stone.     Is  that  your  name  ? 

WOMAN. 

No,  sir.     He  's  my  only  boy,  Henry  Masters.     His 
father 's  dead,  and  I  cannot  spare  him. 

OFFICER. 

Explain  this.     Why  did  you  give  a  false  name? 

LAD. 

I  was  afraid,  sir,  that  my  mother  would  find  me  out, 
and  stop  me  from  enlisting. 

OFFICER. 
What 's  your  age  ?  » 

WOMAN. 

He  's  not  fifteen  ;  he  was  fourteen  last  November. 


SCENE  I.]  HESPER.  77 

OFFICER. 

Too  young,  too  young. 

LAD. 

But  I  'm  as  big  as  most  fellows  of  eighteen.  And 
I  'm  strong,  and  I  must  go.  I  must  help  the  country, 
sir.  I  can  keep  with  the  drummers  for  a  while,  and 
then,  when  you  see  how  tough  I  am,  you  '11  give  me  a 
musket. 

OFFICER. 

It  won't  do,  Masters.  You  ought  to  obey  your 
mother.  You  must  stay  at  home  with  her. 

LAD. 

Please,  please,  Captain,  don't  refuse  me.  I  'm  not 
afraid.  With  the  drummers,  I  shall  get  used  to  being 
under  fire.  Give  me  a  chance.  Come,  mother,  don't 
forbid  me.  I  will  drum  courage  into  the  men  when 
they  go  into  battle  :  you  would  n't  have  them  miss  that. 

WOMAN. 
Alas  !  my  precious  boy,  I  cannot  give  you  up. 

OFFICER. 

Enough.  You  shall  not  quit  your  mother.  Fall  in, 
men !  March ! 

[Martial  music.  Wliilst  the  soldiers  march  away  sing- 
ing, their  friends  wave  farewells  to  them,  and  gradu- 
ally disperse. 


78  HESPER.  [ACT  III. 

Tramp  !  tramp  !  to  the  beat  of  the  drum, 

And  the  sound  of  the  merry  fife. 
Our  country  calls  —  we  come,  we  come  ! 

Good-by  to  lover  and  wife. 


Tramp  !  tramp !  while  the  Stars  and  Stripes 

In  the  breeze  of  Freedom  fly, 
We  pledge  our  blood  to  the  righteous  cause, 

And  the  Union  shall  not  die. 


HESPER  (coming  forward  as  the  chorus  grows  faint) . 

What !  can  a  boy  who  's  scarce  beyond  the  age 

Of  top  and  kite,  thus  urge  a  patriot's  rights,  — 

Greedy  to  taste  the  war's  vicissitudes  ! 

Has  Hesper,  too,  no  country  to  defend  ? 

Most  noble  boy  !     Your  manly  tears  have  washed 

My  duty  clear !     I  've  heard  thy  deep  appeal, 

My  country,  and  I  come.     But  Constance  ?    Oh ! 

[JBtofc 


SCENE  II.  —  MRS.  HESPER  and  BLACKMAR. 

MRS.    HESPER. 

It  grieves  me,  brother,  that  my  Ralph  and  you 
Are  still  at  odds.     I  hoped  that  you  would  smooth 
Your  difference  ere  this  ;  why  will  you  not  ? 
I  cannot  bear  that  two  so  dear  to  me 
Should  so  misprize  each  other. 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER.  79 

BLACKMAR. 

You  forget 

The  provocation,  but  my  self-respect 
Has  a  long  memory.     Was 't  not  enough 
Your  son  should  flagrantly  insult  my  friend, 
But  he  must  also  hurl  his  gibes  at  me,  — 
At  me,  his  uncle  ;  should  insinuate 
That  I,  no  less  than  Darnel,  am  a  rogue  ? 

MRS.    HESPER. 

Alas  !  I  wish  that  hasty  wrong  unsaid. 

But  be  not  you  too  harsh.     We  must  not  judge 

Hot  words  that  flash  from  youth's  brief,  sudden  clouds, 

Like  the  affront  of  ripe,  deliberate  men. 

BLACKMAR. 

Pleas  and  excuses  cannot  salve  the  wound. 

'T  is  evident  —  his  later  tricks  confirm  — 

Ralph  did  not  strike  in  haste  :  he  planned  the  blow. 

Darnel,  he  saw  a  rival  on  the  crest 

Of  happy  fortune  ;  jealousy  contrived, 

And  baseness  wrought,  perdition.     Were  he  not 

Your  son,  how  would  you  rate  a  man  whose  wiles 

Enticed  a  woman  from  her  earlier  choice  ? 

MRS.    HESPER. 

You  wrong  him,  when  you  hint  dishonor.     He 
Won  Constance  nobly.     You  are  blind  indeed 
If  you  pretend  she  e'er  showed  Darnel  favor. 
Ah,  brother,  be  magnanimous,  be  just : 
I  cannot  suffer  rancor  to  embitter 


80  HESPER.  [ACT  III. 

Their  bridal  happiness,  or  that  yourself 
Should  farther  nurse  a  grievance.     I  '11  not  ask 
That  you  forgive  outright ;  but  if  Ralph  takes 
The  step  towards  reconciliation  first, 
Promise  you  '11  not  draw  back. 


BLACKMAR. 

My  dignity 

Shall  teach  my  act.     But  his  apology, 
Solicited  by  you,  will  not,  be  sure,  suffice. 
On  his  own  prompting  must  he  come  to  me,  — 
And  as  his  insult  had  a  double  sting, 
So  his  contrition  must  include  my  friend. 

{Exit. 

MRS.  HESPER. 

My  brother 's  obdurate  !  pride  magnifies 
A  trivial  offence  ;  yet  must  I  urge  redress. 
Ralph  shall  retract,  and  so  the  quarrel  ends. 
And  yet  I  would  not  have  him  lower  bend 
Than  just  his  fault  requires. 

[Enter  HESPER. 
Welcome,  my  son. 
I  have  grave  matter  to  confer  with  you. 

HESPER. 
Have  you  so  soon  divined  my  late  resolve  ? 


MRS.  HESPER. 

Your  uncle  — 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER.  81 


Nay,  our  country,  she  it  is 
Of  whom  I  speak.     I  dedicate  my  life 
Henceforth  to  her.     I  volunteer  to-day. 

MRS.  HESPER. 

Impossible,  my  son,  impossible  ! 

You  must  not  leave  me  —  Constance  you  forget. 

HESPER. 

I  have  forgotten  none.     I  've  held  the  scales 
Whilst  love  and  duty  trembled,  till  the  side 
Where  duty  pressed,  inevitably  sank ; 
Again,  again,  I  've  cross-examined  both, 
Yet  ever,  urgent  as  the  trump  of  doom, 
A  voice  commands  me,  Go. 

MRS.    HESPER. 

Reflect  : 

To  act  upon  this  hasty  resolution, 
Though  seeming-high,  would  not  less  be  a  wrong. 
Your  life  belongs  to  us,  as  well  as  you  ; 
Let  those  who  have  no  ties  — 

HESPER. 

And  who  is  he 

So  wretched,  vile,  inhuman,  or  supreme, 
That  Nature  has  not  bound  him  to  his  race? 
Who  's  he  can  truly  say  :  /  have  no  Jcin : 
Myself  am  my  own  end?    There  lives  not  one 
Outside  the  clasp  of  those  mysterious  cords 
By  which  the  currents  of  our  kinship  pulse 


82  HESPER.  [ACT  III. 

Forever  round  the  world.     No  act,  no  word, 
But  doth  affect  us  all,  for  good  or  ill. 
The  fool  alone  believes  that  he  can  fix 
The  orbit  of  his  folly.     Obscurely  safe 
The  savage  planter  deemed  his  cotton-field  ; 
But  every  lash  upon  his  helpless  slave 
Has  cut  a  welt  upon  all  freemen's  backs. 
Should  I  abandon  Honor  in  its  need, 
There  is  no  face  in  all  the  patriot  band 
But  would  behold  me  with  convicting  scorn. 

MRS.    HESPER. 

You  had  not  thus  determined  yesterday. 


An  hour,  a  twinkling,  makes  a  boy  a  man ; 
To-day  redeems  my  childish  yesterday. 

SIRS.    HESPER. 

But,  Ralph,  it 's  still  too  early  to  decide 
Where  justice  lies.     Your  uncle  plainly  states 
That  politicians  have  fomented  strife 
For  partisan  effect ;  they  've  overreached, 
And  soon  will  quell  this  too  unruly  plot. 
Now,  surely,  duty  does  not  hale  you  out 
To  be  accomplice  in  such  men's  intrigues  ? 


By  what  election  does  my  uncle  strut 
As  Honor's  spokesman?     No,  my  mother,  no  ! 
One  fact  abides  amid  the  whirl  and  scum 
Of  quibble  or  dispute,  —  our  country's  risk. 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER. 

It  matters  not  what  error  brought  her  there ; 
All  partisans  are  turned  to  patriots, 
In  emulous  resolve  to  succor  her. 

MRS.    HESPER. 

Yet,  yet,  delay  a  little,  I  implore, 

Until  the  need  shows  unmistakable. 

Within  a  month  the  tempest  may  be  spent  — 

HESPER. 

I  can't  forego  the  duty  of  that  month. 

If  brief  the  trial,  more  's  the  call  for  haste, 

Before  the  chance  slips  by.     When,  from  the  shore, 

I  see  a  drowning  man  at  utmost  gasp, 

Shall  I  procrastinate  until  I  learn 

How  he  fell  in  ;  or  till  I  've  ascertained 

He  cannot  save  himself,  and  no  one  else 

Will  dare  the  noble  plunge  ?    I  wait  —  he  drowns. 

To  hear  the  earliest  call  of  those  in  need, 

And  be  among  the  foremost  to  respond,  — 

That  is  a  golden  rule.     I  thank  the  fates 

They  leave  no  loop  for  doubt  or  cavil  here. 

MRS.    HESPER. 

Oh  Ealph  !  can  nothing  qualify  your  zeal  ? 
Can  new  ambition  harden  so  your  heart 
Against  the  voice  of  life-long  tenderness  ? 

HESPER. 

Mother,  can  you  misread  me  ?    You  accuse 
Of  cheap  ambition,  filial  unconcern  ? 
If  I  spoke  bluntly,  't  was  to  root  myself, 


84  HESPER.  [ACT  III. 

Lest  Love's  persuasive  voice  seduce  my  will. 
In  you  a  motherly  affection  pleads. 
Could  I  resist  it,  but  that  in  me  grow 
The  seeds  of  duty  which  you  planted  here? 
All  I  have  said  your  judgment  will  approve, 
Once  past  the  shock  of  newness  ;  for  you  taught 
We  should  not,  when  a  crisis  calls  for  proof, 
Abjure  the  creed  professed  by  us  at  ease. 
'T  were  better  you  had  pined  to  childless  age, 
Than  borne  a  son  to  skulk  or  falter  now. 
Henceforth,  at  news  of  danger  or  success, 
You  will  rejoice  to  think,  My  son  was  there. 


MRS.    HESPER. 

Since  you  will  go,  my  blessing  go  with  you. 

I  urge  no  more  ;  but  from  my  anxious  heart 

Each  hour  I  '11  pray  that  God  most  merciful 

Will  clear  a  path  to  lead  you  back  to  me. 

But  Constance  —  does  she  know  ?    Does  she  consent  ? 


HESPER. 

Methinks  I  see  her  standing  in  the  sun, 
Unconscious  of  the  gloom  which  darkens  us. 
Beautiful  Constance,  yet  a  little  while 
Thy  nectar  of  felicity  sip  on  ! 
I  bring  thee  wormwood  —  I,  who  would  bring  joy ! 
Before  my  courage  flinches,  I  must  tell. 
Thank  heaven  that  she  is  brave  !  I  trust  in  that. 
And  you,  dear  mother,  you  will  comfort  her, 
And  pacify  her  dread.  —  I  hear  her  step  : 
Leave  us  a  little  while  alone. 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER. 


85 


MRS.    HESPER. 

I  pray 
That  God  protect  and  fortify  you  both. 

\Exit.    Enter  CONSTANCE. 

CONSTANCE. 

There  is  a  sorrow  on  your  countenance 
I  never  saw  before. 


Here  in  my  heart, 
Beloved  Constance,  is  the  cause. 

CONSTANCE. 

What  grief 

So  vast  and  terrible  that  it  can  daunt 
My  love  ?     Speak  out  your  anguish  at  its  flood. 


Oh  that  I  might  ensheathe  the  blade  of  Truth 
In  painless  words  !     Love,  we  must  part  to-day. 

CONSTANCE. 

We  part  ?    To-day  ?    We  —  who  are  soon  to  wed  ? 
Who  has  authority  to  hint  this  wrong? 

HESPER. 

Star  of  my  soul's  delight !  if  in  ourselves 
The  conduct  of  our  happiness  were  placed, 
Unchecked,  unmoved,  we  might  live  happy  ever ; 
But  linked  we  are,  by  bonds  we  may  not  break, 
To  all  our  fellow-men.     This  very  hour 


86  HESPER.  [ACT  III. 

One  of  those  thoughts  which  rise  up  unawares 
Out  of  our  deepest  soul,  and  sternly  grasp 
The  rudder  of  our  life  and  put  the  ship  about, 
Spoke  this  command  :  Thou  mayst  not  longer  shirk  : 
Thy  country  needs  thee;  hasten  to  her  aid. 

CONSTANCE  (aside). 

0  God !  the  only  voice  he  must  obey ! 

HESPER. 

You  know  how  we  let  go  unheeded  by 

Wild  rumors  of  impending  war.     You  know 

That  love  so  joined  us,  past  dividing  seams, 

We  did  not  tremble  at  the  cruel  knife 

Which  cuts  our  friends  asunder.     Would  to  God 

The  woe  of  leaving  you  summed  all  the  woes 

Which  duty  can  inflict !     That,  that  were  hard ; 

But  I  should  master,  bidden  by  your  lips 

To  show  that  valor  is  the  twin  of  love. 

But  now,  among  the  Union's  enemies, 

Your  folk,  your  friends,  perhaps  your  brothers,  arm. 

You  cannot  wish  me  triumph  in  a  cause 

Which  must  destroy  your  home,  and  ruin  them  ; 

Nor  can  you  bid  me  stay.     Oh  serpent  Fate, 

To  crush,  not  kill  us,  with  tyrannic  coils  ! 

[^4  short  pause. 

1  've  told  all,  Constance  ;  are  you  silent  ? 

CONSTANCE. 

Yes  — 

In  admiration.     That  you  truly  loved, 
These  many  happy  months,  I  could  not  doubt ; 


SCENE  II.]  HESPER.  87 

Now  I  am  sure  you  're  worthy  all  my  love. 

This  blessed  certitude  uplifts  my  soul 

A  little  moment  to  that  purest  heaven 

Where  Love  abides  eternal,  —  far  beyond 

The  crosses  and  the  griefs  which  maim  him  here. 


Oh  Constance,  could  I  —  can  I  part  from  you? 
I  thought,  at  first,  I  might  evade  the  call ; 
That,  wedded,  we  might  hide  ourselves  away, 
Oblivious,  in  some  sequestered  spot, 
Known  but  to  Love  and  us.     But  even  there 
The  murmurs  of  my  duty  unperformed 
Would  persecute  my  rest ;  the  winds  themselves 
Would  growl  the  echoes  of  the  cannonade, 
To  taunt  me,  basely  safe  ;  and  I  should  see 
Pitying  scorn  condemn  me  in  your  eyes. 
For  all  the  world  I  would  not  hazard  that. 


CONSTANCE. 

We  know  the  sentence  ;  and  we  must  submit. 
At  this  bleak  time  we  '11  sow  our  hopes  and  wishes 
Against  a  happier  season.     But  to  part,  — 
To  feel  the  infinite  load  of  anxious  days, 
When  every  hour  seems  swollen  to  the  stretch 
Of  endless  time  ;  to  waver  on  the  brink 
Of  dread's  abyss,  until  we  almost  crave 
The  jump  that  hurls  us  to  the  worst  we  fear, 
And  thereby  kills  suspense  ! 


88  HESPER.  [ACT  III. 

• 

HESPER. 

Constance,  my  soul ! 

You  have  my  plighted  word  to  serve  but  you  : 
I  cannot  go,  if  you  command  me  stay. 
You  rule  my  love,  my  life,  my  honor,  —  speak ! 


CONSTANCE. 

I  bid  you,  Go  !    I  need  not  bid,  Be  brave  ! 
Your  resolution  tells  me  I  too  owe 
My  service  to  my  kindred  in  distress. 
What  woman  can  to  cheer  and  strengthen  them, 
That  will  1  do.     My  heart  can't  weigh  the  cause,  — 
The  God  of  Justice  must  determine  that. 
And  when  the  fury  and  the  havoc  cease  — 
Pray  heaven  it  be  soon  !  —  and  peace  returns 
To  heal  the  wounds  of  war  and  knit  more  firm 
The  ties  which  discord  shattered,  —  Hesper,  then, 
When  duty  may  no  more  divide  or  part, 
If  you  still  seek  a  wife  to  love  but  you 
Through  this  life  and  all  others,  come  to  me. 
[Military  music,  as  of  a  passing  regiment,  heard  in  the 
street  below.     HESPER  leads  CONSTANCE  to  the  win- 
dow, and  in  silence  they  look  out. 


HESPER  (as  the  sound  retreats) . 
How  quick  they  marched !    I  start  with  them  to-night. 


SCENE  III.]  HESPER.  89 


SCENE  III.  —  Virginia.  The  Seat  of  War.  Drawing-room,  of 
a  Mansion.  HESPER,  in  colonel's  uniform,  writing  a  de- 
spatch by  lamplight.  BLAKE,  a  Lieutenant,  stands  near  him. 

HESPER. 

It 's  now  nine  o'clock,  Blake.  This  despatch  must 
be  at  headquarters  by  midnight.  You  will  make  sure 
the  General  himself  receives  it  immediately.  Yes,  you 
must  hand  it  to  him  yourself.  Impress  upon  him  the 
importance  of  carrying  that  position.  The  attack  must 
be  made  before  Thursday,  when  the  Confederates  will 
be  re-enforced,  and  three  brigades  could  n't  dislodge 
them.  To-morrow,  our  regiment  alone  can  capture  it. 
Persuade  the  General  to  let  us  do  the  work  to-morrow. 
Here  's  your  packet.  Go.  You  have  three  hours  for 
fifteen  miles.  Follow  the  high-road  for  about  seven, 
till  it  bends  westward,  there — (pointing  on  a  map); 
then  you  must  strike  towards  the  east,  through  rough 
lanes.  Don't  lose  your  way.  Remember,  not  later 
than  midnight.  If  possible,  bring  me  the  General's 
consent  by  breakfast. 

LIEUTENANT. 

I  '11  not  fail,  Colonel,  though  I  ditch  my  horse. 

HESPER  (accompanying  him  to  the  door). 
May  speed  attend  you,  and  success  reward. 
This  ride  shall  gild  your  epaulets.     Good-night. 

[Exit  Lieutenant. 

There  goes  a  friend  in  whom  I  trust 
As  in  my  own  right  hand !     Were  all  as  true, 


90  HESPER.  [Acx  III. 

A  single  will  might  multiply  effects, 
O'erleaping  distance,  at  a  thousand  points. 
\_He  returns  to  his  chair  at  the  table;  removes  his  side- 
arms. 

Night  and  the  memory  of  to-day's  hot  deeds 
Clew  up  my  active  spirit.     Well,  if  thus 
Upon  the  stubborn,  sanguinary  field 
I  always  earned  the  recompense  of  sleep  ! 
When  cannon  roar  and  showering  bullets  hiss,  — 
After  the  heart's  first  flutter  takes  the  beat 
Of  reckless  exultation,  —  when  the  smoke 
Puffs  out  the  bosom  with  inspiring  fumes, 
How  glorious  to  be  a  soldier  then  ! 
Who  would  not  dare  amid  the  rush  and  clang, 
Which  stimulate  no  purpose  but  to  dare  ? 
And  as  the  danger  shoots  up  tall  and  dire, 
How  courage  mounts  to  match  its  highest  threat, 
And  grieves  it  is  so  small !     In  action  men 
Look  destiny's  worst  terror  in  the  eyes, 
And  prove  themselves  above  it  —  though  they  die. 
Better  the  sharp  collision  and  the  charge, 
Than  dilatory  camp  and  tortoise  march, 
Which  rust  the  will  and  too  much  lengthen  war. 
Come  soon,  oh  Peace,  with  Victory  to  crown 
The  righteous  cause,  and  make  old  foes  new  friends. — 
Beloved  Constance,  where  art  thou  to-night? 
In  every  battle,  bivouac,  and  toil, 
Thou  art  my  stanch  companion  and  support : 
Desire  for  thee  intensates  all  my  thoughts. 
[A  pause.     HESPER  seems  to  doze.     A  secret  door  is 
cautiously  opened  at  the  further  end  of  the  room. 
HESPER  rouses,  and  seizes  his  revolver. 


SCENE  III.]  HESPER.  91 

What  noise  was  that  ?    Oh,  there  are  traitors  here ! 
Come  forth,  or  I  '11  despatch  a  ball  to  fetch  you. 

[The  door  opens  again;  CONSTANCE  issues  from  it. 
What!     Constance,  you? 

CONSTANCE. 

Yes,  Hesper,  I. 

I  never  thought  that  in  my  father's  house 
He  who  should  be  my  husband  would  assert 
A  conqueror's  command.     I  dreamed  that  here 
Our  bridal  days  would  glide  from  joy  to  joy. 
Now,  in  my  ruined  home  we  meet,  unwed. 


Constance,  throughout  the  cannonade  to-day 
Before  our  troops  had  captured  this  position, 
Surely,  you  were  not  here,  within  the  shot 
Of  peril? 

CONSTANCE. 

Yes ;  why  not  ?    Brave  men  were  here 
And  needed  woman's  care.     In  the  South  Hall 
I  nursed  the  wounded  soldiers,  till  a  shell 
Set  half  the  house  ablaze.     Our  lines  fell  back 
Slowly,  and  with  them  bore  the  wounded  off. 
I  stayed,  to  seek  some  precious  keepsakes  ;  then, 
Escape  cut  off,  I  hid  myself  in  there. 


Heroic  Constance  !     Let  us,  Love,  forget 
The  brutal  mien  of  War,  for  this  brief  night,  — 
The  last,  perhaps,  which  Chance  may  offer  us. 
Upon  this  jut  of  Time  we  '11  rest  till  morn  ; 


92  HESPER.  [ACT  III. 

Locked  in  the  dear  embraces,  deified 

By  the  nepenthe  of  our  mutual  love. 

Till  the  in- tide  of  moments  drowns  our  rock, 

This  night  shall  be  our  love's  eternity.  — 

Oh  magic  lips,  you  kiss  the  Past  away  ! 

How  fared  you,  sweetheart,  through  the  tedious  doom 

Of  absence  ?     Speak,  and  bridge  the  void  with  news. 

Concerning  you,  the  noisy  months  were  dumb  ; 

And  though  I  questioned  prisoners  and  spies 

'T  was  e'er  to  be  rebuffed,  save  only  once  : 

A  friend  of  mine,  —  a  fellow-officer,  — 

Brought  low  with  wounds,  was  captured  by  your  troops  ; 

Long  weeks  he  balanced  in  a  desperate  fever ; 

But  at  each  pause  in  his  delirium's  surge, 

He  said  a  woman  stood  beside  his  cot, 

And  Hope  beamed  on  him  out  of  purple  eyes  ; 

At  last  he  mended,  was  in  time  exchanged, 

And  though  he  could  not  tell  the  name  of  her 

Who  wooed  him  back  to  life,  I  knew  't  was  you. 

CONSTANCE. 

That,  Hesper,  is  the  story  of  my  days. 

The  hospital  has  been  my  battle-field ; 

My  battle  has  been  waged  with  Death  himself ; 

My  victory  has  been  to  wrest  from  him 

The  victims  whom  he  clutched.     But  I  have  had 

Frequent  reports  of  you,  for  valor  shines 

Beyond  the  friendly  camp.     How  like  a  flame 

You  leaped  from  grade  to  grade,  and  made  each  brighter, 

I  duly  heard,  and  wondered  from  afar. 

Though  I  rejoiced,  I  trembled  that  you  sought 

Fame  and  advancement  where  death  's  oftenest  met. 


SCENE  III.]  HESPER. 


Constance,  my  fame  is  but  a  tiny  spark 

Amid  the  general  blaze  :  destructive  Time 

Will  quench  the  lustre  of  the  greatest  soon ; 

Our  mighty  battles  shrivel  into  dates 

Set  for  a  schoolboy's  task  ;  our  brave  exploits 

But  shed  a  glamour  on  a  girl's  romance. 

Enough  for  each  to  quit  him  nobly  now, 

That  those  unborn  may  never  justly  say, 

"  We  had  been  happier  had  our  sires  been  true." 

Why  talk  of  war,  whose  every  thorny  word 

Goads  up  the  recollection  of  the  strife 

Which  separated  us  ?     Let  love  balm  heartache 

And  put  to  sleep  unlovely  apprehension. 

Thank  heaven  that  you  are  safe,  that  I  still  feel 

A  loyal  pressure  when  I  touch  your  hand ! 

Your  friends,  your  brothers  —  has  the  war  spared  them  ? 

Were  you  alone? 

CONSTANCE. 

Charles  serves  on  Jackson's  staff ; 
Edward  — 

HESPER. 
Why  hesitate  ?    Has  he  been  killed  ? 

CONSTANCE. 

How  can  I  fill  my  duty  to  you  both? 

If  I  disclose,  I  jeopard  my  dear  brother ; 

If  I  conceal,  my  lover  I  betray ; 

Oh,  why  should  Hesper  be  my  brother's  foe  ! 


94  HESPER.  [Acx  III. 

I  'II  speak,  and  trust  your  honor  to  decide. 

In  to-day's  combat,  he  was  here  with  me. 

When  we  despaired  of  keeping  you  at  bay, 

Our  wounded  having  been  removed,  I  stayed 

To  save  some  precious,  small  mementos,  dear 

Because  they  were  my  mother's.     He  stayed  too. 

Brief  though  my  search,  it  stretched  beyond  our  safety  : 

Your  soldiers  barred  retreat,  and  left  but  time 

To  hide  in  yonder  secret  cabinet 

Ere  they  came  pressing  in.     We  waited  there, 

And  hoped  that  night  would  aid  us  to  escape. 


Constance,  go,  ask  your  brother  to  come  out. 
[CONSTANCE  goes  to  the  secret  door,  opens  it,  and  ED- 

WAKD  ROMAINE  emerges. 
Though  meeting  thus  is  hardship  to  us  both, 
I  'm  glad  to  take  your  hand.     How  oft  did  Constance 
Tell  me  fond  stories  of  her  brother  Ned, 
Until  your  very  name  suggested  love  ! 
The  chance  of  war  makes  you  my  prisoner,  — 
Nay,  keep  your  sword,  —  but  though  my  duty  here 
Must  judge,  affection  shall  advise  him. 


CONSTANCE. 

Ah, 

But  for  my  rash,  unwary  confidence, 
'Twixt  now  and  morn  you  might  have  well  been  free 

[to  EDWARD]. 
And  blame  could  not  have  implicated  you  [to  HKSPEK]  . 


SCENE  III.]  HESPER.  95 

EDWARD. 

Grieve  not,  my  sister.     T  is  the  soldier's  risk 
To  suffer  while  confinement  gnaws  away 
Sinews  that  battle  toughens. 

[At  an   open  window  DARNEL'S  face  is  seen  for  a 
moment. 

DARNEL. 

A  trap  !     A  family  conniving ! 

HESPER. 

Hist! 
I  heard  a  voice  outside. 

[Goes  to  the  window. 
There  's  no  one  here : 
But  yonder  I  discern  a  sentinel, 
Along  the  farther  margin  of  the  lawn 
Pacing  his  beat.     Perhaps  the  fitful  breeze 
Wafted  a  murmur  of  the  tune  he  hums.     [Returns."] 
I  promise,  Edward,  your  captivity 
Shall  be  as  mild  as  any.     Every  ease, 
By  which  the  yoke  may  gall  your  spirit  less, 
I  will  bespeak  for  you. 
Beloved  Constance,  now  may  you  forsake 
This  lair  of  danger  and  fatigue.     Return 
To  cheer  my  mother ;  she  will  welcome  you, 
And  in  her  shelter  you  and  she  shall  wait 
Till  Peace  unite  us.     Here  your  duty  's  done. 
Oh,  for  my  sake,  my  heroine  !  submit 
To  honorable  and  deserved  repose. 
Bind  not  beneath  a  soldier's  daily  load 


96  HESPER.  [Acx  III. 

The  nettle  of  suspense.     Consent  to  rest ; 
Enough  that  men  should  brave  atrocious  war. 


CONSTANCE. 

Consider  not  for  me  :  my  risk  is  slight, 

And  danger,  grown  familiar,  loses  soon 

His  power  to  appall.     Not  for  myself, 

But  for  my  brother,  whom  his  pride  constrains 

To  silence,  do  I  plead.     Is  there  no  course, 

Which  you  may  take  with  honor  to  us  all, 

Save  this  which  leads  to  prison  ?    Must  he  pine 

In  wasted  bondage  ?  be  the  mark  preferred 

Of  small  indignities,  the  butt  of  scorn? 

Perhaps  the  prey  of  sickness  and  of  ills 

Which,  though  you  would,  you  could  not  fend  from  him  ? 

I  plead  to  you,  as  any  sister  might 

To  a  victorious  foe.     As  such  reply. 


Feign  any  voice,  't  is  always  Constance  speaks. 
Love  shall  decree,  and  duty  ratify. 
I  may  release  your  brother  on  parole. 

CONSTANCE. 

He  shall  accept,  and  I  must  go  with  him. 


HESPER. 

Can  nothing  move  you,  Constance?    Teach  my  wish 
Not  to  entreat  in  vain. 


SCENE  III.]  HESPER.  97 

CONSTANCE. 

Ralph,  we  are  both 

Hedged  to  our  kindred  while  their  need 's  a- wing ; 
Nor  you,  nor  I,  could  in  mid-flight  desert  them. 
But,  for  your  sake,  hereafter  I  will  shun 
The  neighborhood  of  harm.     I  bless  you  for 
This  generous  reprieve. 

HESPEE. 

Would  I  might  bless !  — 
You  understand  you  are  in  honor  bound 
To  bear  no  arms,  or  otherwise  abet 
Your  friends'  endeavors,  whilst  the  war  shall  last? 

EDWARD. 

The  terms  are  hard,  and  clash  with  my  desire ; 
But  Constance  urges,  and  I  must  submit. 


If  in  your  hiding-place  you  chanced  to  hear 
Aught  of  the  message  my  lieutenant  took, 
That,  too,  must  be  kept  sacred. 


Be  it  so : 

But  liberty,  thus  crippled  and  abridged, 
Lacks  naught  of  servitude,  except  its  name. 

CONSTANCE. 

Do  not  despond  ;  I  pi'omise  you  shall  know 
New  ways  and  high,  that  test  a  soldier's  zeal. 


98  HESPER.  [ACT  III. 

UESPER. 

Beloved,  since  you  cannot  be  besought 
To  turn  away  from  troubles,  now  't  is  best 
You  linger  not.     I  will  conduct  you  both 
Across  our  lines,  that  so,  before  the  morn, 
When  greedy  havoc  will  dart  out  his  fangs 
To  slay  fresh  victims,  you  may  both  be  safe. 
Alas  !  that  in  a  world  where  myriads  crave 
In  vain  one  friend,  complete  and  absolute, 
Parting  should  sever  us,  whose  souls  are  one  ! 
That  unison  should  save  from  such  a  doom. 
Guard  thy  dear  self,  that  when  we  next  shall  meet, 
No  scar  of  hardship  give  me  cause  to  grieve. 
When  we  shall  meet  —  ah,  when  ? 


CONSTANCE. 

If  it  be  soon, 

Or  long-delayed,  you  shall  not  find  me  changed. 
Come  with  the  swiftest  harbinger  of  peace  — 
Be  mine  forever,  and  forever  more. 


HESPER  (on  the  threshold) . 

How  still  and  sweet  the  night !     How  bright  the  stars  ! 
The  rumble  and  the  smoke  of  mortal  strife 
Reach  not  a  league  in  air  ;  they  cannot  blur 
Those  countless  eyes  of  joyousness  and  peace. 
Has  Love  no  heaven  where  devoted  hearts 
May  shine  forever  in  unclouded  bliss  ? 

[Exeunt. 


SCENE  IV.]  HESPER.  99 

DARNEL  (appearing  again  at  the  window). 
Here 's  treason  ready-forged.     Mine  be  the  blame, 
If  thus  equipped  I  fail  in  my  revenge. 


SCENE  IV.  —  A  Camp.     Distant  fring  heard.     Two  Officers. 
FIRST   OFFICER. 

Boom  !  boom  !  They  're  hot  at  it,  but  that  tune  is 
too  loud  to  last  long.  Let  them  bellow  their  worst,  — 
our  fellows  have  thick  drums  to  their  ears,  and  the  din 
won't  stop  them.  It 's  a  terrible  road,  though,  that 
Hesper  is  leading  his  men  through. 

SECOND    OFFICER. 

I  wish  we  were  on  it.  Beyond  that  little  mile  of  hell 
there  's  sure  promotion. 

FIRST   OFFICER. 

Perhaps  to  heaven. 

SECOND   OFFICER. 

I  tingle  with  envy  when  I  think  our  regiment  might 
be  there  at  this  moment,  instead  of  loafing  here,  like 
miners  out  of  work.  The  General  won't  have  Hesper's 
glory  lessened  by  letting  us  halve  it. 

FIRST    OFFICER. 

Those  Rebs  are  plucky,  but  they  may  whistle  for 
help.  Lee  could  n't  save  them,  were  he  five  miles  off 
instead  of  thirty.  There  's  a  salute  from  our  rifles. 
At  'em,  boys !  You  '11  soon  gag  their  battery. 


1 00  HESPER.  [ACT  III. 

SECOND    OFFICER. 

Here  come  two  riders  at  top  speed. 

FIRST    OFFICER. 

That  one  in  front  is  Wells,  of  the  staff.  Perhaps 
the  General  has  relented,  and  we  may  smell  powder 
to-day. 

SECOND   OFFICER. 

Too  late  !  Hesper  has  his  grip  on  the  prize  already. 
The  other 's  a  civilian. 


FIRST   OFFICER. 

Oh,  I  know  him.  That 's  Darnel,  — one  of  your  po- 
litical warriors,  gentlemanly  buzzards  who  gorge  them- 
selves on  camp  spoils.  He  's  the  contractor  that 
supplies  us  maggots  in  bacon,  like  plums  in  a  pudding, 
and  allows  us  boots  soled  with  the  best  brown  card- 
board. 

[Enter  an  AIDE-DE-CAMP  and  DARNEL. 

AIDE. 

Good-morning.  I  have  an  important  despatch  for 
Colonel  Hesper. 

FIRST   OFFICER. 

And  none  for  our  colonel  ? 

AIDE. 
No  ;  for  Colonel  Hesper. 


SCENE  IV.]  HESPER.  101 

FIRST    OFFICER. 

You  '11  not  find  him  here  ;  and  when  you  do  find  him, 
he  will  not  be  a  colonel. 

AIDE. 
Where  is  he  ?    My  orders  are  urgent. 

SECOND    OFFICER. 

He  's  up  there,  looking  for  a  brigadier's  brevet,  in 
the  smoke. 

DARNEL  (aside). 

I  must  wait  a  little  to  see  his  disgrace.  But  revenge 
will  be  sweeter  if  it  strike  him  in  success. 

FIRST   OFFICER. 

There  's  nothing  for  it  but  to  ride  after  him.  You 
can't  miss  the  road ;  just  follow  the  cannon-music  and 
you  '11  soon  overtake  him,  unless  a  bullet  overtakes 
you. 

AIDE. 

My  orders  are  to  have  him  report  immediately  at 
headquarters.  There  's  a  serious  charge  — 

FIRST   OFFICER. 

A  serious  charge  !     A  Balaklava  you  might  call  it ! 


You  joke. 

FIRST   OFFICER. 

Yes,  and  no.     I  'm  a  Yankee. 


102  HESPER.  [ACT  III. 

DARNEL. 

I  heard  unpleasant  rumors  at  headquarters  that  Hes- 
per is  mixed  up  in  a  treasonable  affair. 


FIRST    OFFICER. 

Treason !  What  jealous,  scurvy  rogue  hatched  that 
lie  ?  Hurry  up  yonder,  and  I  warrant  you  '11  see  a  new 
sort  of  treason. 

DARNEL. 

It  J8  too  bad  so  good  a  soldier  should  be  tainted  with 
this  suspicion.  Nevertheless,  the  General  hinted  to 
me  that  the  evidence  looks  pretty  black  against  him. 
Hesper  and  I  are  old  friends,  and  I  came  to  encourage 
him  until  he  clears  himself. 

SECOND    OFFICER. 

They  have  silenced  the  cannon.  See !  see !  they 
have  planted  our  flag  on  the  breastworks !  Take  my 
glass. 

FIRST   OFFICER. 

It 's  true  !  The  position  's  won !  Make  haste,  gen- 
tlemen, if  you  would  be  the  first  to  congratulate  General 
Hesper. 

SECOND    OFFICER. 

Yes ;  don't  delay.  The  road  is  safe  enough  now. 
Any  Congressman  might  venture  it. 

AIDE. 

I  must  go.     Will  you  come  ? 


SCENE  V.]  HESPER.  103 

DARNEL. 

Most  certainly.     [Aside.]    The  higher  his  rise,  the 
harder  will  be  his  fall. 

[They  ride  away. 


FIRST   OFFICER. 

I  smell  a  coward's  trick  here. 


SCENE  V.  —  The   captured  Redoubt.     HESPER,    unconscious, 
supported  by  his  Lieutenant,  and  attended  by  a  Surgeon. 

LIEUTENANT. 

Alas  !  good  doctor,  he  has  died  too  soon. 
The  ball  that  took  his  life  took  from  him  too 
The  news  of  victory. 

SURGEON. 

He  is  not  dead. 

A  little  life  still  flutters  in  his  pulse, 
And  hope  now  sets  a  signal  in  his  cheeks. 
It  was  a  murderous  wound.     Not  one  in  ten 
Could  rise  from  such  a  shock.     We  must  rely 
On  his  uncommon  vigor ;  and  his  will, 
If  once  he  wakes,  will  battle  on  our  side. 

LIEUTENANT. 

See  !  his  eyes  open ! 

HESPER  (faintly). 

One  last  charge,  my  men ! 


104  HESPER.  [ACT  III. 

SURGEON. 

His  mind  is  wandering.     He  swoons  again. 
It 's  pitiful  how  very  weak  he  is. 


LIEUTENANT. 

Doctor,  I  beg  you  save  my  truest  friend. 

SURGEON. 

Ah,  Blake,  a  desperate  request  is  yours. 
Lift  his  head  up  a  little  :  so.     'T  will  ease 
His  breathing. 

LIEUTENANT. 

Oh,  what  phantoms  are  we  men  ! 
An  hour  ago  this  friend  here  in  my  arms 
Was  full  of  generous  life.     Strength,  courage,  hope, 
And  every  quality  of  head  and  heart 
That  most  adorns  a  man,  and  most  endears, 
Had  its  abode  in  him.     Now,  like  a  clod, 
He  sinks  to  nothingness  —  strength,  valor  sped : 
And  all  my  friendship,  all  your  utmost  skill, 
Of  no  avail  to  stop  the  little  breach 
Through  which  death  creepeth  in  !     When  thus  we  see 
Our  body  's  but  a  tenement  of  clay, 
Where  the  soul  lodges,  —  an  abode  of  worms, 
Unless  the  soul  be  lord  and  tenant  there,  — 
Can  we  believe  this  vivifying  all, 
Which  loves,  which  dares,  which  hopes,  which  thinks 

a  God, 
Dies  with  its  dusty  mansion  ? 


SCENE  V.]  HESPER.  105 

SURGEON. 

Hush !     He  stirs. 

HESPER. 

All  silent  ?    "Were  our  men  repulsed  ?    Ah,  Blake, 
You  here  ?    Are  you  not  needed  in  the  charge  ? 

LIEUTENANT. 

The  victory  is  yours. 

HESPER. 

Then  I  'm  content. 


SURGEON. 

Drink,  Colonel.     Every  drop  will  give  you  strength. 
Forbear  to  talk.     You  mend  already,  sir. 
See,  Blake,  how  regular  his  pulse  beats  now. 

HESPER. 

Ah,  friends,  your  wish  deceives  you.     In  my  breast 

I  feel  the  gap  through  which  life  ebbs  away. 

But,  Blake,  you  're  wounded.     Doctor,  look  to  him. 


LIEUTENANT. 

Only  a  scratch  —  a  bullet  kissed  my  cheek. 

HESPER. 

"Was  our  loss  heavy? 


106  HESPER.  [Acx  III. 

LIEUTENANT. 

Near  a  hundred  killed  ; 
The  wounded  double  that. 

HESPER. 

A  fearful  price, 

As  mothers  reckon ;  but  the  gain  atones. 
Go,  surgeon,  minister  to  those  whom  yet 
You  may  relieve.  I  am  beyond  your  help. 


Not  so. 


LIEUTENANT. 

Each  moment,  Hesper,  betters  hope. 


I  thank  you  both,  but  death  has  entered  here. 

Blake,  my  dear  comrade  in  these  heats  of  war 

Which  purge  the  base  and  purify  the  true, 

Farewell.     May  happy  fortune  be  your  friend, 

Ever  your  steadfast  friend.     One  service  more 

Your  love  shall  render.     Let  my  mother  know 

That  even  here  the  thought  of  her  upheld  me  ; 

And — can  you  hear  me,  Blake  ?  My  voice  grows  faint — 

This  ring  give  Constance,  when  you  soonest  may, 

And  say  that  Hesper,  at  farewell  with  Time, 

Felt  love  more  strong  than  death.    You  promise,  Blake  ? 

LIEUTENANT. 

Trust  me  in  all. 


SCENE  V.]  HESPER.  107 


We  conquered  —  are  you  sure  ? 
Is  that  you,  Constance,  kissed  away  my  pain? 
I  cannot  see,  but,  Love,  I  know  your  lips. 
Good-night,  good-night,  Beloved  !     I  must  sleep. 

LIEUTENANT. 

The  man  1  loved  and  honored  most  is  dead. 


THE    END. 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


Form  L-9-15m-7,'32 


PS 

3015  Thayer  - 
T33h  Hesper;  an 
American 
drama. 


L  005  414  625  3 


UNIVERSITY  of  CALIFORNIA 

iA>$  ANGELES 
•  IBRAKY 


